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COfVKIGHT DEPOSIT. 


















































































RAIL AND WATER SERIES. 

BOOKS FOR BOYS. 

By KIRK MUNROE. 

Under Orders : The Story of a Young Reporter. 
Prince Dusty : A Story of the Oil Regions. 

Cab and Caboose : A Story of Railroad Life. 

The Coral Ship : A Story of the Florida Reef. 

Each i2mo. Illustrated . . . $1.25 






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ONE OF THE GREAT OIL TANKS HAD BEEN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, AND 
NOW A RAGING, ROARING MASS OF FLAME SHOT UP. {Page 96.) 


RAIL AND WATER SERIES 


PRINCE DUSTY 

A STORY OF THE OIL REGIONS 


KIRK MUNROE 

• ' 

AUTHOR OF “under ORDERS,” “ 1 HE FLAMINGO FEATHER,” 
“ DERRICK STERLING,” “ DORYMATES,” 

“campmates,” etc., etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 



G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS 

NEW YORK LONDON 

VJ WEST TWENTY-THIRD ST. 27 KING WILLIAM ST., STRAND 

Knickerbocker ^ress 

1891 


TZT 

i \\\ i aT w 

C V- 

\ 


Copyright, 1891 

BY 

KIRK MUNROE 


Ube Iknicfeerbocfecr iprcss, HAew ltlork 

Electrotyped, Printed, and Bound by 
G. P. Putnam’s Sons 


CONTENTS. 


I. — A Prince and Princess Go in Search of 


Adventures i 

II. — A Present from a Fairy God-Mother . . 8 

III. — Brace Barlow the u Moonlighter” . . 17 

IV. — A Torpedo Man’s Peril 25 

V. — Arthur and His Cousins . . . .33 

VI. — A Gallant Rescue and Its Reward . . 40 

VII. — Uncle Phin’s Plan 49 

VIII. — Awakened at Midnight 58 

IX. — A Hurried Flight 66 

X. — On Board the Ark 74 

XI. — Uncle Phin’s Danger 82 

XII. — A Torrent of Flame 90 

XIII. — How the Ark was Saved . . . .98 

XIV. — A Camp of Tramps 107 

XV. — Arthur’s Fight to Save Rusty . . . 115 

XVI. — The Meaning of Some Queer Signs . 123 

XVII. — Pleasant Driftings 130 

XVIII. — The Ark is Stolen ...... 139 

Hi 


iv CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER PAGE 

XIX. — Penniless Wanderers in a Strange City . 148 

XX. — A Railroad Experience 154 

XXI. — Carried Off in a Freight Car . . . 164 

XXII. — Saving the Keystone Express . . .172 

XXIII. — Crossing the Alleghanies .... 182 

XXIV. — A Brave Struggle with Poverty . . 189 

XXV. — Finding a Home 199 

XXVI. — Colonel Dale of Dalecourt . . . 207 

XXVII.— A “ Genuine Chump ” 216 

XXVIII. — A Few Facts Concerning Petroleum . 224 

XXIX. — Locating an Oil Well .... 234 

XXX. — The Dale-Dustin Mystery .... 243 

XXXI. — A Bitter Disappointment .... 250 

XXXII. — Shooting a “ Duster” 259 

XXXIII. — Saved by the Sign of the Tramp . . 266 

XXXIV. — An Oil Scout Outwitted .... 274 
XXXV. — Developing an Oil Region .... 283 
XXXVI. — Arthur Remembers His Friends . . 290 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

ONE OF THE GREAT OIL TANKS HAD KEEN STRUCK BY LIGHTNING, 

AND NOW A RAGING, ROARING MASS OF FLAME SHOT UP. Frontispiece 

PRINCE DUSTY AND CYNTHIA SET OUT ON THEIR ADVENTURES . . 4 

PRINCE DUSTY AND HIS FAIRY GODMOTHER 8 

A HURRIED FLIGHT BY MOONLIGHT 70 

STANDING STEADILY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRACK HE SWUNG HIS 

danger signal to and fro 180 

THE FAIRY GODMOTHER FINDS PRINCE DUSTY I98 

WITH A MIGHTY ROAR LIKE THAT OF THUNDER, A DENSE VOLUME OF 

GAS BURST FORTH 264 

“YES, THAT’S SANDY’S MARK,” SAID ONE OF THEM, “THERE’S NO 

GOING BACK ON THAT ” 272 














* 







































PRINCE DUSTY 


A STORY OF THE OIL REGIONS. 


CHAPTER I. 


A PRINCE AND PRINCESS GO IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES. 



WELVE - YE AR ■ OLD Arthur Dale Dustin 


JL did not look the least bit like a Prince, 
sitting perched on the topmost rail of the zig-zag 
fence that bright September afternoon. As he 
dangled his bare brown legs idly, he wistfully 
watched his cousins at the play in which they 
would not allow him to join. He loved to play 
as dearly as any other boy ; but somehow or 
other he was always left out of their games by the 
boisterous crew of little Dustins whom he called 
cousins. He tried his best to like what they liked, 


2 


BORING FOR OIL. 


and to be one with them; but something always 
seemed to happen to prevent. 

Once when they all went to see the well that 
his uncle, John Dustin, was drilling, deep down into 
the ground, with the hope of striking petroleum, 
they found the men away, and, for a few minutes, 
had the place to themselves. Thereupon Cousin 
Dick, who was two years older than Arthur, climbed 
up the derrick, and 2 watching his chance, sprang on 
the end of the great walking beam, that was work- 
ing slowly up and down with ponderous strokes. 
Here he rode on the back of his mighty wooden 
steed for a few seconds, while the other children 
shouted and clapped their hands with admiration. 

Then Dick came down and dared Arthur to per- 
form the same feat ; but the boy held back. He 
was not afraid, not a bit of it ; and even if he had 
been he would gladly have done anything Dick 
dared do, merely to win his good-will and that of 
the others. But his Uncle John had forbidden them 
even to go near the derrick or the engine unless he 
was there to look after them. The others seemed to 
have forgotten this ; but Arthur remembered it, and 
so refused to ride on the walking beam because it 


IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES. 3 

would be an act of disobedience. Then Cousin Dick 
sneered at him, and called him a “ ’Fraid-cat,” and all 
the others, except tender-hearted, freckle-faced little 
Cynthia, took up the cry and shouted, “ ’Fraid-cat ! 
’Fraid-cat ! ” as they crowded around him and pushed 
him into the derrick. 

Just then Uncle John returned and the others ran 
away, leaving poor Arthur, looking very confused 
and red in the face, standing in the middle of the 
derrick floor. Then, when his uncle in a stern voice 
asked him what he was doing in that place which 
he had been strictly forbidden to enter, Arthur 
hung his head and would not say anything ; for he 
was too brave a lad to be a “ tell-tale,” and too 
honest to tell a lie. So his Uncle John said that 
he was a naughty boy who had led the other chil- 
dren into mischief, and that he might go right home 
and get into bed, and stay there for the rest of the 
day as a punishment. 

Poor Arthur obeyed; and, as he walked slowly 
toward the only place in the world he could call his 
home, great tears rolled down his cheeks. When 
the other children, who were hiding in the bushes, 
saw them they called out, “ Cry-baby ! Cry-baby ! ’ 


4 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Only little Cynthia ran out and put her arm about 
his neck and said she was sorry; but Dick pulled 
her roughly away. 

Another time when Cynthia asked Arthur to 
build a house for her dolls, under the roots of a 
great tree that had blown down just on the edge of 
the woods back of the house, he, being an obliging lit- 
tle soul, consented at once to do so. Under the huge 
mass of roots and earth they played happily enough 
at making believe it was a cave, and Cynthia was 
radiant with delight over the beautiful time they 
were having. For a little while Arthur experienced 
the novel feeling of being perfectly happy. Then, 
all of a sudden, a shower of earth and gravel came 
rattling down on them from above, and with it came a 
mocking chorus of “ Girl-boy ! Girl-boy ! Look at the 
girl-boy playing with dolls ! ” and little Cynthia be- 
gan to cry over the ruin of her beautiful baby-house. 

Upon this, with a quick blaze of indignation, 
Arthur picked up a bit of stick and flung it with 
all his strength at the tormentors who had brought 
tears to his little cousin’s eyes. It was aimed at no- 
body in particular; but it happened to strike Dick 
on the cheek and make a slight cut, from which the 



PRINCE DUSTY AND CYNTHIA SET OUT ON THEIR ADVENTURES. ( Page 5.) 

















































** 

I 








































































































IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES . 5 

blood flowed. Thereupon the big boy ran crying 
home to his mother, and told her that Arthur had 
struck him with a stick, in proof of which story he 
showed his bloody face. Then Mrs. Dustin, who 
always acted upon the impulse of the moment, took 
down the apple switch from over the mantel-piece 
and gave her nephew a whipping, which she said 
would be a lesson to him. Poor little Cynthia tried 
to explain how it had all happened ; but her mother 
had no time to listen, and only told her and the other 
children to come away from the bad boy, and not go 
near him again that day. 

Some days after this, when all the others had gone 
on a fishing expedition, upon which they had re- 
fused to let Arthur and Cynthia accompany them, 
the boy proposed a beautiful plan to his little 
cousin. He remembered the fairy tales his own 
dear mother used to read to him, and now he said : 

“ Let us make believe we are a Prince and Prin- 
cess, Cynthia, and go out into the world in search of 
adventures.” 

Cynthia had not the remotest idea of what was 
meant by “ adventures ” ; but she was willing to 
agree to anything that Arthur might propose. 


6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


So the two children set forth, and nobody noticed 
them as they went out of the front gate and walked, 
hand in hand, down the dusty road. 

They had not gone far before they discovered a 
poor little robin just learning to fly, that had fallen 
into a ditch by the roadside, where in a few mo- 
ments more he would have been drowned. Of course 
they rescued him, and, while the old mother and 
father birds flew about them uttering cries of dis- 
tress and begging them not to hurt their baby, Cyn- 
thia dried his wings and carefully wiped the mud 
from his downy feathers with her pinafore. Then 
Arthur climbed over a fence and gently placed the 
little trembling thing down in the soft grass on the 
other side. 

Next they found a yellow butterfly, whose pretty 
wings were all tangled in a spider’s web. Of course 
they set him free, and had the pleasure of seeing him 
flutter joyously away. Arthur said these were beau- 
tiful adventures, and both the children looked 
eagerly forward to finding some more; but they 
walked nearly a mile, and were becoming very hot 
and tired, before they met with another. 

All of a sudden, as they were passing a cottage by 


IN SEARCH OF ADVENTURES. 


7 


the roadside, they were startled by a deep, loud 
bark, and turning they saw a big Newfoundland dog 
bound over the front fence, and come dashing directly 
toward them. Now, while Arthur was very fond of 
dogs that he was acquainted with, he was also very 
much afraid of strange dogs, especially big ones; 
and his first impulse upon this occasion was to run 
away. Then he remembered that he was a Prince, 
and that princes were always brave. So he told 
Cynthia to run as fast as she could, and hide in the 
bushes. As she did this the brave little fellow 
turned a bold front, though he was trembling in 
every limb, toward the enemy. The next instant 
the big dog sprang upon him, threw him down, 
rolled him in the dust, and then stood over him wag- 
ging a bushy tail, and barking with delight at what 
he had done. 


CHAPTER II. 


A PRESENT FROM A FAIRY GOD-MOTHER. 

RTHUR, who thought he was certainly to be 



killed, shut his eyes, and for nearly a minute 
lay perfectly still. He opened them on hearing a 
trampling of hoofs, a jingling of harness, and a loud 
“ Whoa.” Then, no longer seeing the dog, he quickly 
scrambled to his feet. He was right under the noses 
of a pair of splendid horses, and behind them was a 
fine carriage, from which a beautiful lady was just 
stepping. 

“ Why, little boy,” she said, as she took Arthur’s 
hand and led him away from in front of the horses, 
“ don’t you know that you came very near being run 
over? and that it is dangerous to be playing out here 
in the middle of the road ? Now run into the house, 
and ask your mother to brush your clothes, and don’t 
ever do so again.” 


8 





PRINCE DUSTY AND IIIS FAIRY GODMOTHER. (Page 8.) 




















































































































































A PRESENT FROM A FAIRY GOD-MOTHER . 


9 


“But I don’t live here,” said Arthur, lifting his 
dust-covered little face to the gracious one bent 
down to him. “ I live a long way off, and I ’m a 
Prince, and Cynthia is a Princess, and we were look- 
ing for adventures, when a big dog knocked me 
down; but he did n’t hurt Cynthia, because I de- 
fended her, the same as princes do in the stories my 
own mamma used to read to me.” 

“ So you are a Prince, are you ? ” laughed the lady ; 
“then you must be 1 Prince Dusty.’ Well, if you 
will get into my carriage, and show me the way, I 
will take you home to your castle. But where is 
your Princess ? What did you say her name was ? ” 

u It is Cynthia,” replied Arthur, “ and there she 
comes now.” 

As he spoke, poor, terrified little Cynthia came 
timidly out from the bushes where she had been 
hiding, and crying with flight, for the last three 
minutes. 

Then the beautiful lady took them both into her 
carriage, and ordered the coachman to drive on, 
while she soothed and comforted the children, and 
wiped Arthur’s dusty face with her own embroid- 
ered handkerchief. 


IO BORING FOR OIL. 

She looked curiously at him when he told her that 
his name was Arthur Dale Dustin, that his dearest 
mamma and papa were dead, and that he used to 
live in .New York, but that now he lived with Cyn- 
thia’s father and mother, who were his Uncle John 
and Aunt Nancy. She asked him several questions 
about himself ; but always seemed to forget his name 
and only called him “ Prince Dusty.” 

When they reached the Dustin house she kissed 
both the children good-bye, and gave Arthur a beau- 
tiful copy of Hans Christian Andersen’s u Fairy 
Tales,” that she had in the carriage with her. On 
the fly-leaf she wrote, with a tiny gold pencil that 
hung from her watch-chain : “ To Prince Dusty from 
his Fairy God-mother.” Then she said she must 
hurry on, and drove away, leaving the children 
standing by the roadside and staring after the car- 
riage so long as the faintest cloud of dust from its 
wheels was visible. 

As they turned slowly into the front gate, and 
walked toward the house, Arthur drew a long 
breath and said : “ Cynthia, that is the very most 
beautiful adventure I ever heard of. It ’s beauti- 
fuller even than the stories my own mamma used to 


A PRESENT FROM A FAIRY GOD-MOTHER. II 

tell, and I Ve got this lovely book to show that it is 
all true.” 

Poor Arthur was not allowed to enjoy the posses- 
sion of his book very long, for his Aunt Nancy, who 
had been alarmed at the children’s disappearance, 
and now gave them only bread and water for their 
dinner, took it from him, and laid it on a high shelf, 
saying that it was altogether too handsome a book 
for a little boy to have. 

Arthur begged, and pleaded with tears in his 
eyes, that he might be allowed to keep his book, 
claiming justly that it was his very own, and had 
been given to him to do as he pleased with ; but all 
to no purpose. His Aunt Nancy only said that she 
would give it to him when the proper time came; 
and then, adding that she was too busy now to be 
bothered with him, she bade him get out of the 
house, and not let her see him again before sundown. 

So the sensitive little chap walked slowly away, 
trying in vain to choke back the indignant sobs that 
would persist in making themselves heard, and feel- 
ing very bitterly the injustice of his Aunt Nancy’s 
action. He longed for sympathy in this time of 
trial, and for some friendly ear into which he might 


12 


BORING FOR OIL . 


pour his griefs. Even Cynthia’s company was de- 
nied him, for she was seated in the kitchen under her 
mother’s watchful eye, taking slow, awkward stitches 
in the patchwork, a square of which was her allotted 
task for each day. 

“I ’ll find Uncle Phin,” said Arthur to himself, 
“ and tell him all about it, and perhaps he will some- 
how find a way to get my book again, and then I ’ll 
ask him to take me away from here, to some place 
where I can keep it always.” 

Somewhat cheered by having a definite purpose in 
view, the forlorn little fellow started across the 
fields toward a distant wood lot, in which he knew 
his sympathizing old friend and adviser was at work. 

Uncle Phin was a white-headed, simple-hearted, 
old negro, who, some years before, had been a slave 
belonging to Colonel Arthur Dale, of Dalecourt, 
Virginia. He had been the constant attendant, in 
her daily horseback rides, of the Colonel’s only 
daughter, the lovely Virginia Dale, to whom her 
father had formally presented him, as a birthday 
gift, when she was fifteen years old. 

Three years later the spirited girl, refusing to 
marry the man whom her father had selected for her, 


A PRESENT FROM A FAIRY GOD-MOTHER. 


13 


ran away with Richard Dustin, a young Northerner 
recently graduated from a New England university, 
who had accepted a professorship in one of the Vir- 
ginia colleges. This marriage proved so terrible a 
disappointment to her father that, in his anger, he 
declared he would never receive a communication 
from her, nor see her again, and he never did. The 
young couple, accompanied by the faithful Uncle 
Phin, went to New York. There their only child, a 
boy, named Arthur Dale after the grandfather who 
refused to recognize him, was born, and there they 
lived in the greatest happiness until the child was 
nearly eleven years old. Then the beautiful young 
mother died, leaving Richard Dustin utterly heart- 
broken. Soon afterward he removed with his idol- 
ized boy and Uncle Phin, who had filled the position 
of nurse and constant protector to Arthur from in- 
fancy, to the home of his childhood, a little rocky 
farm in Northwestern Pennsylvania. 

He had but one relative in the world, a brother, 
who lived near one of the mushroom-like towns that 
sprang up during the early days of petroleum. 
When, a year after the death of his wife, Richard 
Dustin was also laid in the grave, it was in the 


14 


BORING FOR OIL . 


family of this brother, John Dustin, that Arthur and 
Uncle Phin found a home. 

Richard Dustin left no property save the rocky 
farm that was too poor even to support a mortgage. 
As his brother John had a large family, the new 
burdens now thrust upon him were not very warmly 
welcomed. In fact Mrs. Dustin strongly urged her 
husband not to receive them. She was Arthur’s 
Aunt Nancy, a hard, unsympathetic, overworked 
woman, who grudged every morsel of food that the 
new-comers ate, and seemed to consider that every- 
thing given to Arthur was just so much stolen from 
her own children. 

Uncle Phin, it is true, worked faithfully to do 
what he could toward earning the bread eaten 
by himself and his “lil Marse,” as he persisted in 
calling Arthur, but he was old and feeble, and the 
best that he could do did not amount to much. 
The scanty, but neat, city-made wardrobe that Ar- 
thur brought with him to his new home, had not 
been replenished by a single garment, and now the 
boy’s clothes were shabby and outgrown to such 
a degree, that his mother’s heart would have ached 
could she have seen him. 


A PRESENT FROM A FAIRY GOD-MOTHER, 


IS 


Although he was a thoughtful, imaginative child, 
he was remarkably strong and active for his age. 
He had learned to read and write at his mother’s 
knee, and his father had, during the last year of his 
life, found his only pleasure in planning and direct- 
ing the boy’s education. Arthur was therefore as 
far in advance of his cousins in this respect as he 
was in refinement and ideas of honor. He w~as so 
very different from them that, though he tried hard 
to love them and make them love him, they, with the 
exception of little Cynthia, to whom he was an ideal 
of perfection, united in cordially disliking him. 

This dislike was clearly shown, and resulted in 
many a heartache and many an unjust punishment 
to the lonely orphan boy. Many a night he slipped 
from his little cot bed in the back shed, and creep- 
ing to where Uncle Phin slept on a hay-mow in the 
barn, poured his troubles with bitter tears into the 
sympathetic ears of the old negro. 

Then the faithful soul would open wide his arms, 
and nestling the fair head of his u lil Marse ” against 
his broad bosom, would soothe and comfort him 
with gentle croonings and quaint quavering planta- 
tion melodies. His singing was always accompanied 


1 6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


by a slow rocking motion of the body, and finally 
the blue, tear-swollen eyes would close, and the boy 
would drop into a sleep full of beautiful dreams, 
in which he always saw his own dear father and 
mother. Then Uncle Phin’s frosted head would 
droop lower and lower, until he too was asleep and 
dreaming of his long ago cabin home under the 
magnolia trees of old Virginia. Thus these two 
would comfort each other until morning. 

Now, choking with a sense of injustice and wrong 
at the hands of his Aunt Nancy, little Prince Dusty 
fled across the fields in search of this friend. He 
was filled with the determination to beg Uncle Phin 
to take him away from that hated place, to some 
other where they might live happily together for 
always and always. 


CHAPTER III. 

BRACE BARLOW THE MOONLIGHTER. 

B ESIDES Uncle Phin and Cynthia, Arthur had 
one other friend whom he seldom saw now, 
but whom he was always glad to meet. This was 
Brace Barlow, a stalwart, good-natured, young 
fellow, about twenty-five years old, who seemed so 
big and strong to the little boy, that the latter 
called him his “ dear giant.” He worked for 
Arthur’s uncle when the boy first came to live 
with the Dustins, and had immediately taken a 
great fancy to the gentle little fellow. He taught 
Arthur to ride horseback, to drive a team, and to 
swim, and was always ready to tell him stories of 
adventures in the oil region. Besides these things, 
he took pains patiently to explain where the oil came 
from, and how wells were drilled, deep down into 
the earth to its hiding-places. 

2 17 


1 8 BORING FOR OIL. 

Some months before the time with which this 
story opens, Brace Barlow left Mr. Dustin’s employ, 
and, mucli to Arthur’s dismay, became a “ moon- 
lighter.” 

Now to understand what a “ moonlighter ” is, 
one must know at least as muck as Arthur did about 
oil wells. They are holes about the size of an ordi- 
nary stove-pipe, bored, by means of immensely heavy 
iron drills, hundreds and sometimes thousands of 
feet into the earth, until they reach the layer of 
porous sandstone that holds the oil, just as a sponge 
holds water. 

With the oil in this sandstone are vast quantities 
of gas, that exert an enormous pressure upon it ; 
and the moment an opening is made to where it is, 
this gas forces the oil to the surface, often driving it 
forth in great spurts and fountain-like jets. Such a 
well is called a “ gusher,” and from it the oil flows 
for days, weeks, and sometimes for years. After 
a while, however, the supply of oil or gas, or both, 
becomes exhausted, so that the stream no longer 
rises above the mouth of the well. Then a pump is 
used, and by means of it the oil is pumped up, just 
as water is from an ordinary well. But the supply 


BRACE BARLOW THE MOONLIGHTER . 19 

of oil always decreases, until, by and by, the pump 
no longer brings it up in paying quantities. 

For some years after the discovery of oil, these 
exhausted wells were abandoned, and their owners 
sunk new ones in other places. At length, however, 
a wise man who had studied the situation very care- 
fully, concluded that if, by any means, the oil-bearing 
rock could be shattered for a considerable distance 
around the bottom of these old wells, the flow of oil 
might be increased, and it might again be produced 
from them in paying quantities. So he invented a 
torpedo that could be exploded at any required 
depth in a well. It was simply a long tin tube, 
closed at the lower end, and filled with nitro-glycer- 
ine. This is one of the most terrible explosives ever 
discovered ; and though it is only ordinary sweet 
glycerine, such as is used for chapped faces and 
hands, mixed with nitric acid, it is ten times more 
powerful than gunpowder, and explodes upon receiv- 
ing a very slight shock or blow. 

A torpedo of this kind, lowered to the bottom of 
an oil well, and exploded by means of a sharp- 
pointed iron weight dropped upon it, shatters a large 
area of oil-bearing rock, and the oil or gas, comes 


20 


BORING FOR OIL. 


rushing to the surface as when the well was first 
opened. This operation is called “ shooting a well ” ; 
the lowering of a torpedo into position, a thousand 
feet or more below the surface of the earth, is called 
“ placing a shot,” and the men who undertake this 
dangerous business are called u torpedo men ” or 
u well-shooters.” 

The person who invented this process of well-shoot- 
ing, and obtained a patent on it, charged so much for 
the use of his torpedoes that to shoot a well was an 
expensive undertaking. Many oil producers thought 
they could not afford it, or that their exhausted 
wells were not worth the further expenditure of so 
much money. Under these circumstances a class of 
reckless, daring fellows sprang into existence, who 
made a business of manufacturing torpedoes, and 
secretly shooting wells without paying the inventor 
the royalty to which his patent entitled him. Thus 
they were able to do the work much more cheaply 
than the regular torpedo men, and a great number 
of well owners were willing to employ them for the 
sake of what money they would thus save. 

As these men generally worked at night they 
were called “ moonlighters,” and many thrilling 


BRACE BARLOW THE MOONLIGHTER . 


21 


tales of the desperate risks run by them, are still 
told in the oil regions. The inventor of the tor- 
pedo, who was the only man having a legal right 
to use it, was of course most anxious to detect and 
punish these “ moonlighters,” and for this purpose 
he employed a number of spies. These spies, or 
detectives, were generally mounted on fleet horses, 
and whenever they discovered a “ moonlighter ” 
driving along the lonely roads, with his load of 
nitro-glycerine, they gave chase to him. Then he 
would whip up his spirited team, and drive away at 
full speed, reckless of consequences, and only intent 
upon escaping from his pursuers. 

Thus it often happened that people sleeping in 
the vicinity of those quiet mountain roads were 
awakened at night by the sound of galloping horses, 
the rattle of a light wagon, and the shouts of its 
pursuers. They would hold their breach and wait 
in anxious suspense until the sounds died away, 
happy if they did not hear the awful roar of an 
explosion, that meant instant death to all who were 
anywhere near that ill-fated wagon. 

When it is remembered that such an explosion could 
be caused by the breaking of a wheel, the upsetting 


22 


BORING FOR OIL. 


of the wagon, or even its sudden striking against a 
rock or stump, and that such an accident would 
result in the instantaneous and complete disappear- 
ance of men, horses, wagon, and everything within 
reach of the awful stuff, it will be understood what 
terrible risks the “ moonlighters ” ran in pursuit of 
their illegal business, and what reckless men they 
were. As the patent on oil-well torpedoes expired 
some years ago, and anybody can now use them who 
chooses to do so, there are no longer any “ moon- 
lighters,” but at the time of this story they were 
numerous, and Arthur’s friend, Brace Barlow, was 
one of the most daring of them all. 

To have his “ dear giant ” engage in a pursuit at 
once so wrong and so dangerous was a great grief to 
the honest, loving little soul, and at every oppor- 
tunity he pleaded with Brace to give it up. But 
the young man would only laugh, saying that he 
had as much right to shoot wells and risk his life as 
anybody else, and that it was the easiest way of 
making money he knew of. 

At length, however, about daylight one morning, 
he came to the Dustin house, bruised, bleeding, and 
with an awe-stricken look on his usually merry face. 


BRACE BARLOW THE MOONLIGHTER . 23 

Waking his little friend, lie said he had come to tell 
him that his moonlighting days were over, and that 
hereafter he was to be an honest well-shooter, in the 
service of the rightful owner of the torpedo patent. 

“ Oh, I am so glad ! ” cried the boy, “ only I wish 
you would work at something else, and never touch 
the awful glycerine again.” 

“ I can’t give it up entirely, little one,” replied 
Brace. “ Its very danger makes it exciting, and any 
other life would seem tame after it.” 

“ Well,” said Arthur, “ if you must be one, I am 
glad you are going to be an honest torpedo man. 
But, ‘ dear giant,’ are you hurt? What makes you 
look so queer ? ” 

Then Brace told him that about an hoar before, 
he had been driving quietly along, with fifty quarts 
of nitro-glycerine stowed snugly under his buggy 
seat, toward a well that he was to shoot at daylight, 
when the sound of galloping hoofs gave warning 
that a detective was on his track. He instantly 
whipped up his horses, and, as they sprang forward, 
his light buggy was nearly upset by striking some 
obstacle, and he was thrown to the ground with such 
force as to be partially stunned. As he lay there 


24 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the detective dashed past without noticing him, and 
overtaking the runaway team a minute later proba- 
bly tried to stop them. They must have swerved to 
one side, the buggy had undoubtedly been upset, 
and a terrilic explosion instantly followed. When 
Brace reached the spot no trace of man, horses, or 
wagon, was to be found, and only a great hole in the 
ground marked the scene of the catastrophe. 

The boy shuddered as he listened to this story, 
and for days afterward his sunny face was clouded 
by its memory. Still he found some comfort in 
reflecting that nothing less than some such terrible 
lesson would have made an honest torpedo man of 
his dear “ moonlighter,” with whom, from that time 
forward, his friendship became stronger than ever. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A TORPEDO MAN S PERIL. 



N the day that Arthur played at being a 


Prince, and was on his way to unfold the 
sad result of that experience to Uncle Phin, he met 
Brace Barlow driving out of an old wood road that 
led to his nitro-glycerine magazine, hidden in the 
loneliest depths of the forest. 

At sight of his little friend, Brace reined in his 
horses and stopped for a moment’s chat with him. 

In spite of the young man’s warning that he had 
a load of the “ stuff ” under the seat, Arthur ran 
forward and clambered up into the wagon beside 
him. 

“ Oh, I am so glad to see you, ‘ dear giant ’ ! ” he 
began impulsively, “ because ” Here he paused. 

He had been about to pour into this friend’s ear 
all his troubles, and make a complaint against his 


25 


26 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Aunt Nancy ; but it suddenly occurred to him that 
by so doing he would be only acting the part of a 
tale-bearer, which his father had taught him most 
heartily to despise. Telling things to Uncle Phin 
was different. He was quite certain that Brace 
could not help him in his present trouble, and so, 
when the latter asked with a smile, “ Because what, 
little one ? ” he answered : 

“ Because I love you, and I am always glad to 
see the people I love. Are you going to shoot a 
well ? Can’t I go with you ? Aunt Nancy says I 
am to stay out of her sight until sunset, and the 
boys have gone fishing, and Cynthia ’s doing her 
patchwork, and I have n’t a single thing to do. 
Please let me go.” 

“ Well, I don’t know,” replied Brace Barlow, re- 
flectively. “I don’t suppose there is really any 
danger; still ” 

“ Danger ! ” exclaimed Prince Dusty, scornfully. 
“Do you suppose I am any more afraid of dan- 
ger than you are, even if you are a great, big 
man and I am only a little boy? Well, I’m not. 
Your old glycerine can’t be any worse than light- 
ning, and I ’m not a bit afraid of that. Besides, if 


A TORPEDO MAN' S PERIL. 


2 7 


I am always going to live in this oil region, I ought 
to learn all about its dangers, so that I ’ll know 
enough to keep away from them. Perhaps when I 
have grown to be a giant, like you, I will want to 
be a well-shooter too, and how can I if I have n’t 
learned how ? ” 

This array of argument was too much for Brace 
to answer, and so, saying, “ Well, I suppose I ’ll have 
to take you with me just this once,” he chirruped 
to his horses, and, driving much more slowly and 
carefully than usual, turned into the road that led 
to the well he Was engaged to shoot. 

They reached the place without incident, and 
Arthur helped carry into the derrick the bundle of 
bright tin tubes that had been lashed to a couple of 
curved iron supports at one side of the wagon. He 
also helped place in position the reel on which was 
wound two thousand feet of stout cord, by means of 
which the torpedo was to be let down into the well. 
This line was run through a pulley that hung 
directly above the well, and its end terminating in 
an iron hook, dangled close to the mouth of the 
deep, dark hole. 

When these preparations were made, Brace Bar- 


28 


BORING FOR OIL . 


low began to fit and fasten together several lengths 
of small tin pipe until they formed a continuous 
tube about fifty feet long. This is called the 
“ anchor,” and was to be attached to the lower end 
of the shell, or large torpedo tube, so that when the 
whole was lowered into the well, it would support 
the torpedo at a height of fifty feet above the 
bottom. 

Arthur was allowed to assist in fitting the anchor 
tubes, and also in making the shell ready to be filled 
with its deadly explosive. When the cans of nitro- 
glycerine were brought into the derrick, all the men 
employed about the place retired to a respectful 
distance from it. Then Brace insisted that Arthur 
should also go away, and leave him alone to finish 
the delicate and dangerous job of loading the 
shell, lowering it into position, and exploding it. 

The boy begged to be allowed to stay, declaring 
that he was not in the least afraid, and would keep 
as still as a mouse. But Brace would not listen for 
a moment to his pleadings, and very slowly the little 
fellow walked away to what he considered a safe 
distance, though it was not nearly so far as the men 
had gone. 


A TORPEDO MAN'S PERIL. 


29 


At this time the empty shell, which was a large 
tin tube about twenty feet long, was, with its anchor 
attached, hanging in the well so that its upper end 
was just above the surface. It hung from a very 
shallow iron hook, at the end of the stout cord 
arranged for the purpose ; and Brace Barlow now 
proceeded slowly and cautiously to pour the nitro- 
glycerine into it. The stuff was the color of soft 
soap, and about as thick as syrup. 

He had been thus engaged but a few minutes, 
when Arthur, who was nearer to him than anybody 
else, heard him call, “ Come here, quick, somebody, 
and help me ! ” 

Without a moment’s hesitation or thought of fear, 
the brave little fellow ran swiftly to the derrick, 
exclaiming, as he reached it, “ Here I am, Brace ! 
What do you want ? ” 

“ You here, you dear little chap ! ” cried the tor- 
pedo man, “ I did n’t mean that you should come ; 
but perhaps after all you will do better than 
another, and I must have help at once. You see the 
hook has slipped off the shell, and I only caught 
the torpedo in time to save it from dropping and 
exploding before I was ready. Then the weight of 


30 


BORING FOR OIL. 


tlie cord pulled the hook up so that I can’t reach it. 
Now if you can climb up the side of the derrick, 
holding the drill rope in close to you till you reach 
the proper height, then swing out, catch hold of that 
hook, and slide down the drill rope with it in your 
hand, you will do what I want as well as if you 
were the biggest man in the world. Do you think 
you can ? ” 

“ I can try,” replied the boy, who took in the 
whole situation at a glance, and he at once began to 
climb the ladder that led to the top of the tall 
derrick. 

It seemed that while Brace was filling the torpedo, 
and had nearly completed his task, he found it 
necessary to shift the position of the shell slightly. 
As he lifted it, the shallow hook slipped from the 
bail, or handle of stout copper wire, and flew up just 
beyond his reach. To let go of the torpedo was out 
of the question, for it would have fallen down the 
well and probably exploded from concussion with 
the iron tubing lining the hole before it had gone 
many feet. This explosion would have fired the 
quart or more of glycerine still remaining in one of 
the cans on the derrick floor, and Brace Barlow 


A TORPEDO MAN'S PERIL. 


31 


would instantly have disappeared from human view. 
The weight of the torpedo was so great that he 
could not support it very long ; and so, unless assist- 
ance came to him promptly when he called, he must 
have let the thing drop, and suffered the con- 
sequences. 

But help had come promptly; and a twelve- 
year-old boy, forgetting all thoughts of danger, and 
urged on by the love he bore his friend, was climb- 
ing the derrick, swinging out into space on the heavy 
drill rope, clutching the dangling iron hook, and 
sliding down with it in his hand. Then, instead of 
timidly reaching it to Brace, he stepped boldly up 
and attached it to the copper bail of the torpedo that 
was cutting deep into the flesh of the strong hand 
that held it, and must in another minute have 
let it go. 

As the well-shooter, with a pale face, rose from 
his strained position, he clasped the boy in his 
arms, exclaiming : “ Little one, you have done for 
me this day what any man might be proud of 
doing for a friend ; and, so long as I live, I will 
never forget the service nor cease to be indebted to 
you.” 


32 


BORING FOR OIL. 


When the filling of the torpedo was completed, it 
was cautiously lowered a thousand feet to the bottom 
of the well, the “ Go Devil,” a heavy, pointed bit of 
iron that was to explode it, was dropped, and, seiz- 
ing Arthur in his arms, Brace Barlow ran swiftly 
from the spot. 

A few seconds later the solid earth was shaken 
and there was a heavy but muffled roar. Directly 
afterwards a vast column of oil shot up through the 
derrick sixty feet into the air, and fell back to earth 
in a glistening cloud of amber-colored spray. The 
shot was a perfect success ; and for months after- 
wards the old well again flowed at the rate of twenty 
barrels a day. 

As Brace and his little friend rode homewards 
they stopped in the first lonely bit of forest to 
explode the still dangerous but empty nitro-glycerine 
cans. This was done by placing them on the 
ground, lighting the end of a short fuse attached to 
a cap thrust into one of them, and driving rapidly 
away. The explosion was terrific, and its roar was 
like that of a hundred-pounder gun. Arthur said it 
was better than any Fourth of July he had ever 
known. 


CHAPTER Y. 


ARTHUR AND HIS COUSINS. 


S Arthur and Brace Barlow returned from the 



well-shooting described in the preceding 
chapter, the latter set the boy down at a cross-road 
but a short distance from the Dustin house. Here 
the little fellow bade his “ dear giant ” good-night, 
and ran homeward, feeling happier than he had for 
a long time. Though he hardly realized the full 
value of the service he had just rendered to 
his friend, he was sure that he had been useful at a 
critical moment ; he knew that he had been praised 
for what he had done, and he felt more manly than 
ever before. 

It was quite late when he reached the front gate, 
where faithful little Cynthia was anxiously watching 
for him and wondering where he could be. 

“ Oh, Cynthia ! ” he cried, as he drew near and 
saw her, “ I Ve had such a lovely time ! I have 


3 


33 


34 


BORING FOR OIL. 


been shooting a well with Brace Barlow, and I 
climbed up the derrick and got a hook that had 
slipped away from him, and brought it down ; and 
he said I was a brave boy, and had saved his life, 
though I don’t see exactly how ; and then we had a 
splendid Fourth of July time, blowing up the cans; 
and it sounded like a real truly cannon ; and the 
very minute I get grown up I ’m going to be a well- 
shooter.” 

It was absolutely necessary for the enthusiastic 
little fellow to pour into sympathetic ear the tale of 
what he had done. He had performed a brave 
act, and in the first flush of his excitement he longed 
to be praised for it, as we all do whenever we have 
done anything that we consider especially good, 
or worthy of commendation. It is a reward of 
merit to which all who have earned it are entitled ; 
and to withhold just praise is as cruel as to extend 
unjust censure. 

Cynthia would not have been guilty of any such 
unkindness. Her eyes opened wide as she listened 
to the tale her Prince told of his own deeds, and 
she was just catching her breath to tell him how 
splendid she thought them, when they were startled 


ARTHUR AND HIS COUSINS. 35 

by the sound of a harsh voice, calling, “ Arthur ! 
Cynthia ! come into the house this minute, you 
naughty children. Don’t you know better than to 
be staying out there breathing the night air ? ” 

“ A boy must breathe some kind of air, Aunt 
Nancy, and when it is night time I don’t see how 
he can help breathing night air,” laughed Arthur, as 
he reached the house ; for not even his aunt’s harsh 
tones could at once dispel his good spirits. 

“ What do you mean by talking back to me ? ” 
asked Mrs. Dustin. “ I say that night air is poison, 
and no member of my family, even if he is a young 
interloper, shall breathe a drop of it, not so long 
as I can help it. Now, not another word. T 
know where you ’ve been this whole blessed 
afternoon. You ’ve been off with Brace Barlow, 
who ought to have more sense than to encourage 
your badness, shooting wells, and trying to get your- 
self blown into mince-meat, just to make more 
trouble for me. Yes, I know all about it, in spite 
of your sly ways. Now, you may go right to bed, 
and not a morsel of supper shall you have this night, 
which may be it ’ll be a lesson that you will remem- 
ber for one while, anyway.” 


36 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Mr. John Dustin, who sat smoking his evening 
pipe by an open window, rarely interfered with his 
wife’s management of the children ; but now he 
spoke up saying : 

“ That won’t do, wife ; you only gave the boy 
bread and w^ater for his dinner, and it won’t do to 
send him to bed without any supper. I believe in 
proper punishment, where it is deserved, as much as 
anybody ; but when it comes to starving, that ’s 
quite another thing. It shall never be said that my 
brother Richard’s only son was starved in his uncle’s 
house. So give the boy his supper, and plenty of 
it. Then you can send him to bed if you see fit.” 

Mrs. Dustin knew that when her husband spoke 
in this tone he meant to be obeyed ; so, without a 
word, she set a plain but bountiful meal before 
Arthur. From a long experience of bread-and- water 
punishments and supperless nights the boy was wise 
enough to eat heartily all that he possibly could, in 
spite of his heavy heart. He ate in silence, and for 
some time nobody else spoke ; only Dick, who sat at 
the farther end of the room with the other children, 
chuckled and made faces behind Arthur’s back, for 
the benefit, and to the huge delight, of Iris com- 


ARTHUR AND HIS COUSINS. 


37 


panions. He was greatly pleased at tlie result of 
his tale-bearing ; for it was he who, overhearing 
Arthur tell Cynthia that he had been well-shooting 
with Brace Barlow, had hurried to the house, and 
repeated the information, with some picturesque 
additions of his own devising, to his mother. 

Once, during the silent meal, little Cynthia tried 
to create a diversion in her cousin’s favor by remark- 
ing timidly to nobody in particular, but to the com- 
pany in general, “ Arthur says Brace Barlow says he 
saved his life.” 

“ Who says what ? ” inquired Mrs. Dustin, turning 
quickly and fixing her sharp eyes on the little girl’s 
face. 

“ Brace Barlow says — I mean Arthur says Brace 
Barlow says — he saved his ” 

“ Oh, fiddlesticks ! ” interrupted her mother ; 
“ you don’t know what you ’re talking about. It 
is n’t at all likely that either of them did anything 
of the kind. The sort of danger Brace Barlow goes 
into is quick and sure. When it once gets started 
there is n’t any chance for life-saving, or for telling 
of it afterwards. Arthur ought to know better than 
to go round boasting in that way to a little girl like 


38 


BORING FOR OIL . 


you, and I should think he ’d be ashamed of himself 
for doing it.” 

Arthur listened to this unjust speech with a 
flushed face and a feeling of choking indignation; 
but he did not say a word. Young as he was, he 
had already learned that in a contest with an un- 
reasonable person silence is the weapon of wisdom. 

After finishing his supper the forlorn little fellow, 
accepting his punishment without a murmur, though 
he could not imagine what wrong he had done, retired 
to his cot in the wood-shed, where he was quickly 
blessed by the presence of sleep the comforter. 

The next day was the bright one in September 
with which this story opens, and Arthur is intro- 
duced as he sits on the top rail of a zig-zag fence 
watching the other children at play. 

Fired by the accounts of his adventure of the 
day before as narrated to them, at second-hand by 
Cynthia, for Arthur could not be induced to say 
another word concerning it, his cousins had deter- 
mined to have a miniature well-shooting of their 
own. They spent the entire morning in the con- 
struction of a very shaky little derrick, about six 
feet high, and now they were busy drilling a well, 


ARTHUR AND HIS COUSINS . 39 

which they hoped to put down to a depth of at least 
two feet. When it was finished they proposed to 
shoot it by means of a cannon cracker, that they had 
saved over from the Fourth of July for use on some 
such special occasion. 

The scheme was well planned, and seemed likely 
to be carried out ; for the children were enthusiastic 
over it, and, under Dick’s direction, worked most 
diligently. Arthur would gladly have joined in 
this fascinating occupation ; but the others would 
not have him. As Dick scornfully remarked : 
a What can a city chap like you know about build- 
ing derricks and drilling wells ? You was n’t raised 
in the oil region.” 

So Arthur was forced to content himself with sit- 
ting on the fence and watching them. Occasionally 
he turned for a chat with Uncle Phin, who was cut- 
ting brush in the field behind him, and who took a 
long rest whenever he reached the end of a row that 
brought him anywhere near his “ lil inarse.” Finally, 
after one of these rests, during which Arthur had 
paid no attention to the operations at the miniature 
derrick, he left his perch and followed Uncle Phin 
for a short distance into the thick brush. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A CiALLANT RESCUE AND ITS REWARD. 


RTHUR had hardly left his perch before he 



was startled by a perfect babel of sounds 
coming from where the children were at play. There 
were yells and shouts of laughter, mingled with 
cries of pain and an angry screaming, together with 
piteous calls of u Arthur ! oh, Arthur ! Come and 
make ’em stop ! ” 

Like a young deer the boy bounded out of the 
brush and over the fence, followed, much more slowly 
by Uncle Phin. Arrived upon the scene, he quickly 
comprehended the situation. In an unfortunate 
moment, just as the well was completed and ready 
to be shot, Cynthia’s dearly loved little white kitty 
came demurely walking in that direction looking for 
her mistress. At sight of the little animal a brilliant 
idea flashed through Dick’s mind, and he at once 
proceeded to carry it out. He said : 


40 


A GALLANT RESCUE AND ITS REWARD. 


41 


“We can’t have much fun shooting a dry well 
anyhow, ’cause there won’t be any oil to fly up in 
the air ; but I ’ll tell you what. Let ’s have an 
execution by ’lectricity. It ’ll be immense, and here ’s 
the prisoner already waiting to be executed.” 

Thus saying, the cruel boy snatched up the little 
white kitty, and, bidding the others hold Cynthia, 
who was ready to make a furious struggle in defence 
of her pet, he ran with it to the derrick. Here, with 
the make-believe drill rope, he hung it by the tail, 
so that the little pink nose was but a few inches 
from the ground. Then, lighting the fuse of the 
great cannon-cracker, he placed it directly beneath 
the victim, who was now uttering piteous cries of 
pain and terror, and ran to where the others were 
shouting with delight over the new and thrilling 
diversion so unexpectedly prepared for them. 

Poor, desperate little Cynthia, kicking, biting, 
scratching, but struggling in vain with the young 
rascals who held her fast, began, as a last resort, to 
call upon Arthur, the brave Prince who had defended 
her against the big dog, and she did not call in vain. 

Hatless and breathless, with the fire of righteous 
wrath blazing in his blue eyes, the plucky boy came 


42 


BORING FOR OIL. 


flying to the rescue. He had no thought of the over- 
whelming odds against him. The princes of his fairy 
tales fought whole armies single-handed, and why 
should not he ? His impetuous speed carried him 
right through the shouting group assembled to witness 
the execution of the hapless kitty, and two of them 
were flung to the ground before they knew of his 
presence. An instant later he reached the little 
derrick. The fuse had burned down into the body 
of the big cracker, and in another second it would 
explode. Without the faintest trace of hesitation, 
the little fellow seized it and flung it behind him. 

An explosion followed almost instantly, and was 
accompanied by a yell of pain. The moment Dick 
recognized Arthur, and perceived his intention, he 
sprang after his cousin, and was directly in line when 
the cannon-cracker came flying toward him. It 
struck him and fell to the ground, exploding as it 
did so, and burning his bare feet painfully. 

Furious with rage the cowardly young bully 
rushed at Arthur, who was releasing the white kitty 
from her unhappy position, and with a savage blow 
knocked the little fellow down. Then he jumped 
on him and began to pummel him, screaming “ Take 


A GALLANT RESCUE AND ITS REWARD. 43 

that, will you ! And that ! I ’ll teach you ! I ’ll 
show you who ’s boss round here ! ” 

All at once these cruel cries were changed to yells 
of dismay, as, whack ! whack ! whack ! a shower of 
stinging blows fell upon Dick’s shoulders. Uncle 
Phin, who had followed Arthur as fast as he was 
able, had arrived just in time to save his “ lil Marse ” 
from any severe injury at the hands of his enraged 
cousin, and to administer, with a stout stick, the 
thrashing that the young rascal so well deserved. 

In less than a minute cowardly Cousin Dick and 
his frightened followers were scampering away 
towards the house, where they proposed to lay their 
side of the case promptly before their mother. 
Cynthia had gone after her beloved kitty, and brave 
little “ Prince Dusty,” who had flung himself into 
Uncle Phin’s arms, was sobbing as though his heart 
would break. 

“ Soh, Honey, soh, don’t you cry now,” murmured 
the old man, in soothing tones. “ ’Member dat while 
you is a Dustin by name, you ’s a Dale by breedin, 
an comes of Dale stock. You ’s mos a man now, a 
young gen’lm’n, an it won’t nebber do fer sich as 
you is to cry like a lilly gal. Soh, now, Honey, soh.” 


44 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Neither of them heard the quick, determined step 
that approached them from behind, and so occupied 
was poor, troubled Uncle Phin in soothing and com- 
forting his charge, that it was an easy matter for 
Mrs. Dustin to snatch the trembling boy from his 
arms. Then she marched rapidly away, without a 
word ; but dragging her victim relentlessly after her. 

Uncle Phin half started to his feet when he first 
realized what was happening ; but sank back again 
with a groan, and a murmured “ De good Lawd hab 
mussy on His Lamb.” 

Then he bowed his frosted head on his knees and 
the hot tears trickled slowly between his black 
fingers. 

While he thus sat helpless and despairing, poor 
Arthur was taken to the house and there whipped, 
until the apple-tree switch broke, and his Aunt 
Nancy’s strength was exhausted. Then, telling 
the boy that this was a lesson for him to remember 
as long as he lived, she bade him go to the woodshed, 
which was his sleeping-room, and stay there until she 
should release him. 

During this undeserved punishment not a cry had 
escaped from the boy, nor had a tear found its way 


A GALLANT RESCUE AND ITS REWARD. 45 

to his eyes. He bit his under-lip and clenched his 
hands, but not a sound did he utter. He remem- 
bered what Uncle Phin had just told him. He was 
almost a man now, and no man, especially a Dale, 
would cry for a whipping. So, though the little 
face was drawn and white, and the boy trembled 
until he could hardly stand, he held out to the end 
as bravely as ever a martyr under torture, and when 
he was thrust into his cheerless shed, he sat on the 
edge of his rude bed rigid and tearless. His mind 
was in a furious whirl, but above all was the over- 
whelming sense of injustice and outrage. 

Finally he sprang to his feet, crying, “ I hate you ! 
I hate you ! I hate you ! ” and then, flinging him- 
self on his bed, he gave way to a burst of passionate 
weeping. 

“ Oh, mamma ! ” he cried, “ my own mamma ! 
why don’t you come for me and take me away from 
this dreadful place ? I can’t stay here any longer ! 
Indeed I can’t, mamma ! oh, come for me ; do come ! 
Please, mamma, come for me, and take me to where 
you are ! ” 

For nearly an hour the forlorn child cried for the 
dear ones who had left him ; then his sobs gradually 


4 6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


died away, and, utterly exhausted, lie fell into a 
troubled sleep. 

In the meantime little Cynthia, who only found 
her dear kitty after a long search, met her father 
coming home from his work, and when he inquired 
what was the matter with his daughter, and who 
had made her cry, she told him the truth of all that 
had happened, so far as she knew it. Mr. Dustin 
had begun to suspect that Arthur was ill-treated 
by his cousins, and as he listened to Cynthia’s story, 
his face grew very stern, and he said : “ This matter 
must be looked into.” 

When they reached the house, and he was told 
that Arthur had been severely punished for trying 
to kill Cynthia’s kitten, and for fighting with Dick 
who had rescued it, and that Uncle Phin had beaten 
Dick, Mr. Dustin’s anger could not be restrained. 
He said: 

“Wife, I am afraid you have made a terrible mis- 
take, and punished an innocent child for performing 
a noble act. If what Cynthia tells me is true, and I 
believe it is, Master Dick is the boy who tormented 
his little sister, and would have killed her pet. 
Master Dick is the coward who thrashed a little 


A GALLANT RESCUE AND ITS RE WARD. 47 

fellow two years younger tlian himself, for bravely 
rescuing the victim of his cruelty. Master Dick 
is the one who told a lie to hide his own wicked- 
ness and cause his cousin to receive the punishment 
he himself deserved. And Master Dick is the boy 
who is aching for the whipping that I shall give 
him before he is many minutes older. 

“ In regard to my dead brother’s child, I want it 
understood that so long as he remains under my 
roof he is never again to be punished for any fault, 
real or fancied ; and if anybody has any complaints 
to make against him, they must make them to me. 
As for Uncle Phin, if it is true that he beat one of 
my children, he must leave this place, and look for 
a home elsewhere, which I shall tell him to-morrow.” 

Every word of this was heard by the old negro, 
who was sitting on a bench in the little vine-colored 
porch, close under an open window, of the room in 
which Mr. Dustin stood. The old man, who had not 
known of the cruel punishment inflicted upon his 
“lil Maise,” was waiting patiently for Arthur to 
come out and bring him his supper, as the boy had 
done eveiy evening since they came there to live. 

Now he said to himself : “ Dat ’s all right, Marse 


48 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Dustin. I did beat yo boy, an I do it agin if beem 
tetcb my boney lamb ; but yo sba’n’t nebber bab de 
cbance to tun ole Pbin Dale from yo bouse. No, 
sab ; be done go of bis own sef, befo ebber be ’lowin 
you to do sicb a ting. An when be go be is n’t 
gwine erlone. No, sab.” 

Just then little Cyntbia came out with bis supper, 
and said that Arthur was asleep. Tbe old man ate 
bis frugal meal in silence ; but a train of thoughts 
was passing through bis bead much more rapidly 
than usual. They were all travelling in tbe same 
direction, and it was back toward bis old Virginia 
borne. 


CHAPTER VIL 


UNCLE PHIN S PLAN. 



FTER finishing his supper on the memorable 


lY evening of Arthur’s unjust punishment, Mr. 
John Dustin stepped softly into the woodshed, which, 
in that overcrowded household, had seemed to be 
the only place that could be given up for an extra 
sleeping-room. He closed the door behind him, and, 
by the light of a candle that he carried, gazed long 
and earnestly at the tear-stained face of the child 
who lay on a rude cot. It was hot and flushed, and 
the sleeping boy tossed and moaned as though visited 
by unhappy dreams. Once he called out : “ Don’t 

let them whip me, mamma ! I have n’t been naughty. 
Indeed I have not ! ” 

At this the man, as though fearful of awakening 
the sleeper, hastily retired from the place, and there 
was a suspicious moisture in his eyes as he re-entered 
the other room. 


4 


49 


50 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Here lie said : “ Wife, I believe we have treated 

that little chap very unjustly. My brother Richard 
was the most truthful and honorable boy and man I 
ever knew, and I am inclined to think the son takes 
after his father. Hereafter I shall try to make his 
life pleasanter and happier, and in this I want you 
to help me.” 

Mrs. Dustin made no answer to this, for her heart 
was hardened against the orphan lad, and she really 
believed him to be the sly bad boy that Dick strove 
to make him appear. “ I will watch him more closely 
than ever, and show him up in his true light yet,” 
she thought, as she bent her head over her sewing 
so that her husband could not see her face. “He 
sha’n’t stand in the way of my children, and I ’ll 
believe my own Dick’s word before his every time,” 
was her mental resolve. 

Knowing nothing of his wife’s thoughts, Mr. 
Dustin was already taking steps to insure Arthur’s 
greater comfort. He went to the pantry and brought 
from it a bowl of milk, a loaf of new bread, and a 
plate of ginger cookies made that day. With these 
he again entered Arthur’s sleeping-room, and softly 
placed them on a chair where, by the light of the 


UNCLE PILIN' S PLAN. 


51 


moon that was just rising, the boy would see them 
whenever he should awake. Once, while he was 
thus engaged, Mrs. Dustin opened her mouth to ( 
remonstrate against such a lavish provision of food 
for a mere child; but a glance at her husband’s 
determined face caused her to change her mind, and 
she wisely remained silent. 

There had been another and more appreciative 
witness of Mr. Dustin’s thoughtful act. It was 
Uncle Phin, who, kneeling outside the shed and 
gazing through an open chink in its rough wall, was 
waiting patiently for the family to retire that he 
might have a private and undetected conversation 
with his “ lil Marse.” 

As Mr. Dustin again left the shed, the old man 
said softly to himself : 

“ De good Lawd bress you fer what you is jes 
done, Marse Dustin. You is got some ob pore 
Marse Richard’s goodness into you after all. If it 
warn’t fer de ole Miss an dem wicked chillun, me 
an lil Marse would try an stick it out awhile longer. 
But it can’t be did. No, sah, it can’t be did.” Here 
the old man shook his white head sorrowfully. 
u Dem young limbs is too powerful wicked, an ole 


52 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Miss, she back ’em up. Per a fac, ole Phin got ter 
tote his lamb away fum heah, an maybe de good 
Lawd lead us to de green fiels ob de still waters, 
where we kin lie down in peacefulness.” 

An hour later, when the lights of the house were 
extinguished and all was still with the silence of 
sleep, Uncle Phin cautiously opened the shed 
door, and tip-toeing heavily to where Arthur lay, 
rested his horny hand gently on the boy’s white 
forehead. 

The child opened his eyes and smiled, as, by the 
moonlight, now flooding the place, he saw who was 
bending over him. 

“ Sh-h-h, Honey,” whispered Uncle Phin, with 
warning finger uplifted ; “ git up quiet like a flel 
mouse an come erlong wif me. Sh-h-h ! ” 

Then the old man and the child stole softly away, 
the former not forgetting to carry with him the sup- 
ply of food provided by Mr. Dustin. As quietly as 
two shadows they moved across the open space 
between the house and the barn. 

Not until they were safe in his particular corner of 
the hay-mow did Uncle Phin venture to speak aloud. 
Here he drew a long breath of satisfaction, for in 


UNCLE PHIN'S PLAN. 


53 


this place they could talk freely and without danger 
of being overheard. 

First he made Arthur drink all that he could from 
the bowl of milk and eat heartily of the bread and 
cakes that Mr. Dustin had left for him. After eat- 
ing the food, of which he stood so greatly in need, 
and which the old man assured him had been left by 
one “ ob de good Lawd’s own rabens,” Arthur said : 

“ Oh, Uncle Phin, I Ve tried as hard as I can to be 
good, and make them all love me here, but they 
won’t do it. No matter what I do, it seems to be the 
wrong thing, and I only get punished for it. I am 
getting almost afraid to try and do right any more, 
and if we stay here much longer I ’m pretty sure I 
shall grow to be a bad boy, such as my own dear 
mamma and papa would n’t love. Now don’t you 
think we might run away and live somewhere else, 
where it would be more easy to be good than it is 
here % Do you think it would be very wrong if we 
did ? I ’m sure Aunt Nancy would be glad to have 
us go, and perhaps Uncle John would too.” 

“ Why, Honeybug ! ” cried the old man delight- 
edly, “ dat ar is prezactly what yo ole Unc Phin’s 
been projeckin to hissef — only you mus’n’t call it 


54 


BORING FOR OIL. 


runnin away, like you was a pore niggali. A Dale 
don’t nebber run away. He only change de spere 
ob his libbin, when he gits tired ob one place, an’ 
takes up wif anudder, same like we ’s a gwine ter. 
I ’s been considerin fer a long while back dat dese 
yere Dustins, who is n’t much better ’n pore white 
trash no how, was n’t de bestest company fer a 
thorobred Dale like you is.” 

“Husk, Uncle Phin ! You must not speak so of 
my uncle’s family. He was my dear papa’s own 
brother, and they are the only relatives I have in the 
world,” said Arthur. 

“ No, dey is n’t, Honey. Dey is n’t de onliest ones 
what you got in de worl. You is got a granpaw 
libin y r et. A monsrus fine gen’lm’n he is, and he’s 
place one ob de fines’ in all Ferginny, if I does say it. 
He ’s quality, he is, an Dalecourt is yo own proper- 
est home.” 

“ But I have never seen my Grandpapa Dale, and 
he does n’t know me, and I don’t believe he wants 
to,” replied Arthur ; adding sadly : “ There does n’t 
seem to be anybody in the whole world that wants 
to know me, except you, and Brace Barlow, and 
Cynthia. Besides Dalecourt is a long way off, and 


UNCLE PH IN'S PLAN. 


55 


it would take a great deal of money to get there, and 
we have n’t any at all, and I don’t believe even 
you could find the way to it if we should try and go 
there.” 

“Dint I uster lib dere, Honey, and dint I come 
frum dere ? What fo you spec I can’t go whar I 
come frum ? ” 

“ But coming from a place and going back to it are 
very different things,” replied Arthur, wisely. 

“ So dey is, Honey; ob cose dey is,” agreed Uncle 
Phin, who was not yet ready to disclose his plans. 

“But we will go away somewhere and live to- 
gether, won’t we?” pleaded Arthur. “I don’t sup- 
pose we could take my 4 dear Giant ’ and Cynthia 
with us ; but if we only could, would n’t we be 
happy ? ” 

“ Ob cose we’se a gwine leab dish yere place,” re- 
plied the old man. “ You jes trus yo Unc Phin, 
an he fin a way to trabble, an a place fer to go.” 

Then he told the boy that he should go away 
before daylight, and might remain several days 
making preparations for their journey. He would 
not say where he was going, because he wanted 
Arthur to be able to say honestly he did not know, 


56 


BORING FOR OIL. 


if he were asked. He instructed the boy to collect 
all his little belongings, including his scanty ward- 
robe, and have them ready for a start at a moment’s 
notice. “ It ’ll be in de night time, Honey, in de 
middle ob de night, an ole Phin ’ll creep in an wake 
you, same like he did erwhile ago. So don’t you be 
afeared when you wakes up sudden an fin’s him 
stan’in alongside ob you.” 

“ No, I won’t be afraid, and I ’ll be ready when- 
ever you come for me,” replied the little fellow ; 
“but don’t stay long away, because I shall be so 
lonely without you.” 

Uncle Phin promised that he would not be a 
single minute longer than was necessary to make 
preparations, and Arthur was about to go back to 
the house, when a sudden thought flashed into his 
mind, and he exclaimed : “ Oh, my book, my precious 
book that the beautiful lady gave me ! I can’t leave 
it behind, and I ’m afraid Aunt Nancy won’t let me 
have it.” 

Then, in answer to Uncle Phin’s inquiries, he had 
to tell him the whole story of his adventures as a 
Prince, which he had not heretofore found an oppor- 
tunity of relating, and in which the old man was 


UNCLE PH IN'S PLAN. 


57 


greatly interested. He was particularly pleased with 
the title bestowed upon his “lil Marse” by the 
beautiful lady, and said: “You is a shuah ’nough 
Prince, Honey, if dere ebber was one in dis worl, 
only you won’t always be Prince Dusty. Some day 
you ’ll be a Prince somefin else. But you mus hab 
yo book, in cose you mus, an we ’ll make out to git 
hoi ob it somehow or nudder.” 

Comforted by this assurance, and filled with the 
new hopes raised by their prolonged conversation, 
Arthur flung his arms about the old man’s neck and 
kissed him good-night and good-bye. Then slipping 
from the hay-mow he sped back to the house, carry- 
ing the empty dishes, from which Uncle Phin had 
taken the remnants of food for his own use. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


AWAKENED AT MIDNIGHT. 


HE next morning Mrs. Dustin was greatly sur- 



JL prised on coming down stairs to find that no 
fire had been made in the kitchen stove, and that 
the water-buckets, standing on a shelf over the sink, 
were empty. Nothing of this kind had happened 
since Arthur and Uncle Phin came there to live, 
nearly two months before ; for to light the fire and 
bring fresh water into the house were among the very 
first of Uncle Phin’s morning duties. Arthur had 
meant to get up very early this morning and do 
these things, with a vague hope that the old negro’s 
absence might not be noticed ; but he was so thor- 
oughly exhausted by the events of the preceding 
day and night, that he overslept and only awoke 
with a start as his Aunt Nancy entered the kitchen. 

Now, wide-awake, the boy lay trembling in bed 
and wondered what would happen. He heard his 


A WAKENED A T MIDNIGHT . 59 

aunt go out to the barn and call “ Phin ! Uncle 
Phin ! ” but there was no answer, though the call 
was repeated several times. Then she came back 
muttering something about “ lazy and worthless old 
niggers,” and Arthur heard her making the fire. Still 
anxious to take Uncle Pliin’s place as far as possible, 
he jumped up, and hastily slipping on his ragged 
clothes, picked up an armful of wood that he carried 
into the kitchen. 

His aunt looked at him sharply : u Where is 
Phin ? ” she demanded. 

“ I do not know,” answered the boy. 

“ Humph ! I might have expected you would say 
that,” she replied. “How did you know I wanted 
any wood, then ? ” 

“ I heard you calling Uncle Phin, and thought 
perhaps that was what you wanted him for,” was 
the reply. 

“ Well, then, if you know so well what I want, per- 
haps you know that I want you to get out of this 
kitchen and keep out of the way while I am getting 
breakfast,” said Mrs. Dustin, angrily. 

It is always those whom we have injured the most 
that we dislike the most ; and, with the recollection 


6o 


BORING FOR OIL. 


of her cruelty toward this gentle child fresh in her 
mind, the mere sight of him tilled her with anger. 

So the little fellow wandered out to the barn, and 
felt very lonely as he climbed up on the hay-mow to 
make sure that his dearest earthly friend had indeed 
gone. He sat down to wonder where Uncle Phin 
was, and how long it would be before he would come 
to take him away from that unhappy place. He 
wished that he might stay right where he was, and 
not be compelled to see any of the family again, and 
was feeling very wretched and forlorn generally. 
All at once he heard Cynthia’s voice calling the 
chickens around her on the barn floor where she 
fed them every morning. Here was somebody for 
whom he cared, and the thought that he was so. 
soon to leave her, probably forever, filled him with a 
pang of mingled pain and love. 

He slid down from the hay-mow to where his little 
cousin stood, and as she threw her arms about his 
neck and kissed him and told him how much she 
loved him and how sorry she was for him, he began 
to realize how hard it would be to part from her, 
and to wonder if after all he ought to run away with 
Uncle Phin. 


A WAKENED A T MIDNIGHT. 


61 


Cynthia was a loving and lovable little soul, and 
though she had a freckled face, it was lighted by a 
pair of glorious brown eyes. Her hair was of a rich 
brown, flecked with specks of red gold where the 
sunlight shone through it. It was just such hair as 
the sun loves to kiss, and the merry wind delighted 
to toss it into the most bewitching tangles whenever 
it was not closely imprisoned under the little pink 
sun-bonnet. It reminded Arthur of his own dear 
mother’s hair, and often when they were playing to- 
gether he would snatch off the pink sun-bonnet just 
for the pleasure of seeing it ripple down over her 
shoulders. His own used to be long, almost as long 
as Cynthia’s, but his Aunt Nancy had cut it off when 
he first came to live there, and it had been clipped 
short ever since, greatly to Uncle Phin’s sorrow. 

While Arthur and Cynthia were feeding the 
chickens, and the former was almost forgetting his 
recent loneliness, Mr. Dustin came into the barn. 
He greeted both the children pleasantly, and even 
kissed them, a thing that Arthur wondered at, for 
he could not remember that it had ever happened 
before. Then he asked, “ Do you know where Uncle 
Phin is, Arthur ? ” 


62 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ I think he has gone away,” replied the boy, 
flushing and looking down, for it seemed somehow 
as though he were not exactly telling the truth. 

“ Do you know where he has gone ? ” 

“ No, sir, I do not,” was the honest reply, and the 
boy looked his questioner squarely in the face as he 
made it. 

“ Well, I believe you, of course,” said his uncle, 
“ and I suppose he must have taken it into his head 
to leave us, though it seems very strange that he 
should have done so without bidding you good-bye, 
or telling you where he was going.” 

This was too much for Arthur’s sense of honor, 
and speaking up manfully, he said : “ He did tell me 
he was going away, Uncle John, and bid me good-bye 
but he did n’t tell me where he was going, and he 
did n’t want me to say anything about it unless I 
had to.” 

“ I am glad you have told me this,” said Mr. Dus- 
tin, “ and since he lias gone I must say I am not 
very sorry. Now come in to breakfast.” 

That morning Mr. Dustin took Arthur and Cyn- 
thia with him to the well he was drilling, and, to 
their great delight, allowed them to stay there all 


A WAKENED A T MIDNIGHT. 63 

day. When they reached home that evening Arthur 
was so emboldened by his uncle’s unusual kindness, 
that he ventured, in his presence, to make mention 
of the book of fairy tales that his Aunt Nancy had 
taken from him. He said : 

“ Is n’t the book the beautiful lady gave me my 
very own, Aunt Nancy ? ” 

“ I suppose it is,” answered Mrs. Dustin, shortly. 

“ Well, then, don’t you think I might have it just 
to look at ? ” 

“ I said you might have it when I got ready to 
give it to you. ” 

Then Mr. Dustin inquired what book they referred 
to, and when it was explained to him he said : 

“Well, I guess your aunt is ready to let you have 
it this very minute, are n’t you, wife ? ” 

“ There was no mistaking his meaning ; and, very 
ungraciously, Aunt Nancy took the precious book 
down from its high shelf and tossed it on the 
table. 

Arthur seized it eagerly, and until the children 
were sent to bed they and Mr. Dustin enjoyed look- 
ing at its many beautiful illustrations. That night 
Arthur slept with it under his pillow and it must 


6 4 


BORING FOR OIL. 


have influenced his dreams for they were very pleas- 
ant ones. 

The following day was also a happy one for Ar- 
thur and Cynthia, for they spent most of it sitting 
close together under the roots of the great over- 
turned tree that was their especial retreat absorbed 
in the book, and discussing, in their wise childish 
way, several of its charming stories that Arthur read 
aloud to his little cousin. 

The boy was beginning to think that life in this 
place was not so very cheerless after all, and was be- 
coming more than ever doubtful of the expediency of 
running away, when an incident took place that re- 
stored all his previous resolves. Cynthia had been 
called in by her mother to sew on her hated patch- 
work, and Arthur was sitting alone, when suddenly 
a great, squirming, half -dead snake was dropped on 
him from above. With a cry of horror the startled 
boy sprang up just in time to see his Cousin 
Dick’s grinning face, and hear him say, “ That ’s 
only part of what you ’ll get before long, you little 
sneak, you.” 

That night as he slept with his precious book 
clasped tightly in his arms, he was again awakened 


A WAKENED A T MIDNIGHT. 65 

by a hand laid lightly on his forehead. As he sprang 
to a sitting posture, Uncle Phin bent lovingly over 
him, saying : 

“ Sh-h-h, Honey ! Ebberyting ’s ready, an it ’s 

high time fer us to be gittin away fruin hyar. ” 

5 


CHAPTER IX. 


A HURRIED FLIGHT. 



'HERE was no need for Arthur to ask any 


-L questions, when he was roused in the middle 
of the second night after Uncle Phin’s departure. 
He realized at once what was required of him, and 
the heaviness of sleep instantly vanished, leaving 
him keenly wide awake. Stepping softly from his 
bed, he quickly dressed, while the old negro gathered 
together everything belonging to his “ lil Marse,” 
and placed the things in a corn-sack that he had 
brought for that purpose. 

“ Is dat yo book, Honey ? ” he whispered, noticing 
the volume of fairy tales lying on the bed. 

“ Yes, that is my own precious book that the 
beautiful lady gave me ; but don’t put it in the bag, 
Uncle Phin, I want to cany it myself.” 

Then the thoughtful little fellow, since he could 
not bid Cynthia good-bye, and feared she might feel 


66 


A HURRIED FLIGHT. 


67 


hurt if he went away without a word, begged his 
companion to wait, just a minute, while he wrote 
her a note. He wrote it by the bright moonlight, 
on a bit of brown paper, with the stump of a lead- 
pencil, so that it was not a very elegant production, 
but it answered its purpose, and was tenderly cher- 
ished for many a day by the little girl who received 
it the next morning. In it, in a big, scrawling hand, 
was written : 

“ Dear Cynthia : I have been so much trouble 
here, specially to Aunt Nancy and Dick, that I am 
going aw^ay with uncle Fin, to find another home. 
I love you dearly, and sometime I hope I shall come 
back and see you. Good-bye, from 

“ Your loving cousin, 

“ Arthur.” 

Although the old negro was in a hurry to be off, 
he waited patiently while Arthur slowly wrote this 
note. To him writing was one of the most mysteri- 
ous and difficult of arts ; and, gazing admiringly at 
the young penman, he murmured to himself : 

“ What a fine lilly gen’l’man him be to be shuah. 
Him only twelve year ole ; but settin dar an er writin 
like he was a hundred.” 


68 


BORING FOR OIL. 


When the note was finished it was pinned to the 
pillow of the cot-bed, and, with a lingering look at 
the place that had sheltered him for a year, the child 
stepped out and softly closed the door. Then clasp- 
ing his precious book tightly under his arm, and 
trustingly following the old negro, Arthur started 
on the wonderful journey that was to change the 
whole course of his life, though he was still ignorant 
of their destination. 

When they were safely behind the barn, out of 
sight and hearing of the house, Uncle Phin stopped 
and said : 

“ Here ’s only one ting trubblin dis yeah ole woolly 
head. Kin you tell, Honey, fer shuah, what way de 
ribber ober yander is a runnin’ ? ” 

“ Which, the Alleghany? Why, south, of course,” 
answered Arthur, wondering at the question. 

“ Dat ’s what I lowed it done ! ” exclaimed the 
old man. “ I knowed it didn’ run yeast, kase dat ar 
way de sun rise, and I knowed it didn’ run wes, kase 
dat ar way him a settin ; but I wasn’ rightly shuah 
him didn’ run to de norf. I was figgerin all de time 
dough on him running to de souf, ah now we’m git 
back to ole Ferginny easy an sartin.” 


A HURRIED FLIGHT. 


69 


“ To Virginia ! ” cried Arthur, in dismay. “ Are 
we going to try and go way to Virginia, Uncle 
Phin ? ” 

“ Ob cose we is, Honey. We’se er gwine to Fer- 
ginny, an Dalecourt, an yo granpaw, an de lil ole 
cabin by the magnole tree. We is gwine to yo own 
shuah ’nough home, Honey.” 

“ But how are we ever going to travel so far ? ” 

“ You ’ll see, Honey ! you ’ll see dreckly,” chuckled 
the other. “ I ’se got a great ’sprise in sto fer you. 
Hyar’s de kerridge a waitin on us now, and Misto 
Barlow is gwine dribe us to the steamboat.” 

They were now on the road, at some distance from 
the house, and as Uncle Phin spoke, Arthur saw, 
drawn up to one side in the shadow of a clump of 
trees, Brace Barlow’s team, and, leaning against the 
light wagon, the young man himself. 

“ Oh, Brace ! ” he cried, springing forward the mo- 
ment he saw who it was, “ I ’m so glad ! I did n’t 
want to go away without seeing you again. Are you 
really going with us ? ” 

“ I wish I could go with you all the way, my boy, 
and see you safe to your journey’s end, but you know 
I can’t leave my old mother. So I am only going to 


70 


BORING FOR OIL. 


give you a lift for a little way and see that you 
get a good start. Jump in quick now for we Ve 
got a long drive ahead of us and I must be back by 
daylight.” 

As the spirited horses dashed away over the moon- 
lit road with Arthur nestled between Brace and 
Uncle Phin on the single seat of the wagon, the boy 
learned how it happened that his friend had been 
induced to aid them in their flight. Uncle Phin had 
gone directly to him two nights before, and roused his 
indignation by describing the unhappy life his young 
charge was leading, and how much he suffered at the 
hands of Mrs. Dustin and her children. Then he 
told Brace of Dalecourt, and gave him to understand 
that Colonel Dale was ready to receive his grandson 
with open arms, whenever he should go to him. 

The kind-hearted young fellow, entertaining a sin- 
cere regard for the little chap who had recently ren- 
dered him so great a service, readily agreed to *a plan 
that promised so much of good to the boy, and will- 
ingly consented to assist him and Uncle Phin to make 
a start on their journey. He devoted two whole 
days to the task of preparing for it, and did so much 
more than Uncle Phin had dared ask or hope for, as 



A HURRIED FLIGHT BY MOONLIGHT. {Page 70 .) 




































































* 








* 





































































A HURRIED FLIGHT. 


71 


to win the old man’s everlasting gratitude and ren- 
der the first stage of their journey comparatively 
easy. 

For some time Arthur enjoyed the exciting night 
ride over the steep mountain roads, across deep 
valleys, and through forests, all bathed in the glo- 
rious, unclouded moonlight. He did not ask whither 
he was being taken. Nestled warmly between his 
two best friends he felt perfectly safe and happy. 
He knew that they would do what was best for 
him, and the very mystery and uncertainty attend- 
ing this part of their journey lent it a fascination. 
At length his weary head nodded, the heavy eyelids 
closed, and, sound asleep, he was unconscious of his 
surroundings until the horses stopped, and he awoke 
to find himself being lifted from the wagon. 

There was a gleam of moonlit water in his eyes, 
and as he dimly realized that he was on the bank of a 
river, strong arms bore him into the cabin of a queer- 
looking craft that lay moored to the forest trees. 
Here the boy was gently laid down, and was vaguely 
conscious that Brace Barlow was bidding him good- 
bye, when the sleepy eyelids again closed and the 
child passed into dream-land. 


72 


BORING FOR OIL . 


The young man stood looking at the sleeping boy 
for a full minute. As he did so he said softly: 
“Dear little chap ! I hate to have you go away, and 
to think I may never see you again. But I suppose 
it ’s the best thing to be done, or I would n’t have 
lifted a hand to help it along. I only hope it will 
come out all right, and that you ’ll have a happier 
life in the place you ’re going to than you ever could 
have had here. God bless you.” 

It was a benediction, as well as the farewell of 
one brave soul to another. As he uttered it the 
young man slipped a bank bill between two pages 
of the book the boy had clasped so closely, but 
which had now fallen from his hands. 

u It ’s little enough,” he said to himself as he 
turned away, “ but it ’s all I ’ve got, and may be it 
will help him out of a fix some time.” Then he went 
out to assist Uncle Phin, who was casting off the 
fastenings of the boat, and preparing to push it from 
the shore. 

In another minute the clumsy old craft had 
swung clear of the bank, and was moving slowly 
down stream in the shadow of the great trees that 
grew to the water’s edge. Brace Barlow watched 


A HURRIED FLIGHT. 


73 


it until it became a part of the shadows, and he 
could no longer distinguish the white-headed figure 
bending over the long sweep that was made to do 
duty as a steering oar or rudder. Then he again 
mounted the seat of his light wagon, and started on 
his long homeward drive, feeling more lonely than 
he had ever felt in all his life. 


CHAPTEK X. 


ON BOARD THE ARK. 



HE craft on which the old man and the sleep- 


J- ing boy were now slowly drifting down the 
broad, moonlit stream, was a tiny house-boat, such 
as are common on all American rivers. It had 
floated down, empty and ownerless, with the high 
waters of the preceding spring, and had stranded 
and been left by the receding flood at the point 
where Uncle Phin discovered it some weeks before. 
It was a small, flat-bottomed scow, on which was 
built a low house, ten feet long and six wide. This 
house contained but a single room ; and beyond it, 
at either end, the deck of the scow projected about 
four feet. At each end of the house was a door, 
and on each side a square hole or window, that 
closed with a wooden shutter. 

At the stern was a steering oar, as has been stated. 
It hung on a swivel and its long handle projected 


74 


ON BOARD THE ARK . 


75 


up over the end of the roof, on which the steersman 
stood. From each side of the roof hung a heavy 
sweep, by means of which the craft might be 
slowly propelled or turned in any desired direction. 
When not in use, the lower ends of these could be 
lifted from the water by ropes attached to their 
blades, and fastened to the sides of the house. A 
rude ladder reached from each of the small end 
decks to the top of the roof. The whole aifair was 
strong and in good condition, but rough and un- 
painted. 

When it came down with the flood and stranded 
on the river bank, it contained nothing in the shape 
of furniture, save a couple of bunks built against 
the sides, the same number of rough benches, and 
several shelves put up here and there in convenient 
corners. 

Uncle Phin had not thought of making use of 
this stranded craft, when he first found it among the 
trees that he was marking to be cut down for fire- 
wood. He slept in it one night, and merely regarded 
it as a convenient shelter that he could occupy when 
working in that distant and lonely place. When, 
however, he and Arthur conceived the idea of run- 


;6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


ning away, and he made up his mind that if they 
did, it must be to travel in the direction of Dale- 
court, a vision of the little old house-boat crossed his 
mind. 

If it could only be got into the water, and should 
prove to be tight and sound, how easy and pleasant 
it would be to float down the river in it. Whenever 
they had gone as far as they saw fit by water, they 
could probably sell the boat for enough money to 
meet their expenses on the rest of the journey. It 
seemed a fine scheme, and Uncle Phin hastened to lay 
it before Brace Barlow and ask his advice concern- 
ing it. 

The young man listened to it with great interest, 
and then they drove over to take a look at the 
stranded craft. After a careful examination, Brace 
said that, with a little calking of its seams, the boat 
could be made tight and river-worthy, and that Un- 
cle Phin’s plan seemed to him a first-class one. He 
furthermore offered his own labor and the use of his 
team to help prepare the craft for its voyage, and get 
it once more afloat. 

This offer was thankfully accepted, and the two 
succeeding days had been busy ones for both men 


ON BOARD THE ARK . 


77 


and horses. It was found necessary to make several 
trips back and forth between Brace Barlow’s house 
and the “ Ark, ” as he called the boat. Then they 
calked her open seams, and smeared them thickly 
with pitch. They constructed a rude track of straight 
young tree-trunks, from the boat to the water, into 
which, aided by rollers, long levers, and the horses, 
they finally succeeded in launching her. After this 
they had the sweeps to make, and, as there was no 
stove, Uncle Phin built a fire-place in the middle of 
the floor, near one end of the cabin. This he did 
by forming a square of large rocks, filling it with 
small stones, and covering the whole with a thick 
layer of earth. They filled the bunks with sweet, 
fresh straw, and made pillows of the flour sacks 
stuffed with the same material. Brace Barlow cov- 
ered one of these bunks with a coarse sheet and a 
blanket drawn from his own slender stock of house- 
hold goods. Uncle Phin had his own bedding, that 
consisted of a thin old army blanket and a tattered 
comforter. He also had an axe, which was the only 
piece of valuable property that he possessed. 

Then Brace Barlow bought several cooking uten- 
sils, a few dishes, and a small supply of provisions, 


78 


BORING FOR OIL. 


to which he added potatoes and a dozen eggs from 
his own little farm. 

When all this had been accomplished, the two 
men surveyed their work with great satisfaction, and 
nothing but his duty to his mother prevented Brace 
Barlow from joining the party and making the voy- 
age down the river with them. 

From information furnished by Uncle Phin the 
young man gained an idea that the greater part of 
their journey was to be performed by water, and 
that Dalecourt was somewhere in West Virginia, 
within a few miles of the point to which the ark 
could be navigated. 

This was also Uncle Phin’s idea when he learned 
that the river on which his craft was launched 
flowed into the Ohio, which in turn washed one of the 
borders of West Virginia. This new name meant 
nothing to him. There had been but one Virginia 
when he left it, and even of its extent he had not the 
slightest conception. He imagined that, once within 
the borders of the State, it would be a simple matter 
to discover and reach his old home. All he knew of 
travelling and distances was, that when he followed 
his young mistress to New York, the journey occu- 


ON BOARD THE ARK. 


79 


pied less than two days, and that the one from New 
York to the oil country had been accomplished in 
about the same space of time. So now, while he was 
well aware that a boat, drifting with the current, 
would not travel quite as fast as a train of cars, he 
did not, for a moment, doubt that two or three 
weeks or a month at the very most, would see 
them safely established beneath the stately mag- 
nolias of Dalecourt. 

Had he known that between the place where they 
must leave their boat and their destination, there 
stretched a weary distance of nearly five hundred 
miles, much of which was across rugged mountain 
ranges, it is probable that even his stout heart would 
have shrunk from so great an undertaking. But he 
had no knowledge of this, and, as happily ignorant 
of what was before them as was his beloved “lil 
Marse,” now sleeping so peacefully on his bed of 
straw, the old man floated contentedly over the gleam- 
ing waters, and recalled bright pictures of the dear 
old home he hoped so soon to see. 

The night was far advanced; he was worn out 
with the fatiguing labor of the preceding two days, 
there was no sound to disturb him, and so, after 


8o 


BORING FOR OIL. 


a while, his head sunk low over the steering oar, and 
ere long he too was fast asleep. 

Thus, with no wakeful eye to determine her 
course, the Ark drifted on through the night ; now 
in deep shadows of great hills or dark forests, then 
across long stretches of silvery moonlight; here 
caught by an eddy and turned slowly round and 
round ; there held for a moment on the point of some 
glistening sand-bar from which she would slowly 
swing off and again move ahead. 

While the occupants of the boat still slept, the 
moonlight paled before the rosy dawn of a new day, 
and at last a mischievous beam from the round red 
sun, just peeping over the eastern hills, found its way 
into the little cabin and shone full across Arthur’s 
eyes. In a moment the boy was wide-awake, and 
gazing upon his strange surroundings with the ut- 
most bewilderment. He heard no sound, perceived 
no motion, and had not the faintest idea that he was 
on a boat. He only wondered whose this strange 
house was, where it was, and what had become of 
Uncle Phin, of whom he could see no sign. 

He almost expected to hear his Aunt Nancy’s 
harsh voice calling him. Then the events of the 


ON BOARD THE ARK. 


8l 


preceding night came slowly back to him ; and, with 
a thrill of joy he remembered that he was far from 
her dreaded presence, and had actually started on a 
journey toward his own dear mother’s beautiful 
home. 

But he must get up and find out where he was, 
and what had become of Brace Barlow and Uncle 
Phin. At the very moment lie stepped from his 
straw-filled bunk there came a crash and a shock 
that flung him to the floor. At the same instant he 
heard a frightened cry and a loud splash. Regain- 
ing his feet he sprang to one of the open doors and 
looking out saw nobody. Then he ran to the other, 
with the same result. He was evidently alone on 
some sort of a boat, which at that moment was drift- 
ing beneath a great iron bridge. 

6 


CHAPTER XI. 


UNCLE PHIN S DANGER. 



OR a moment poor Arthur, who knew nothing 


JL of boats and had never been on one before 
unless it was a New York ferry-boat, stood irresolute 
and frightened, without the slightest idea of what 
had happened or what he ought to do. The cry 
that he heard had not sounded a bit like Uncle 
Phin’s voice, and if it was his what had become of 
him ? He was not on the boat, nor, so far as Arthur 
could discover, was he in the water. Upon seeing 
the bridge overhead the boy readily comprehended 
that the shock which had flung him to the floor was 
caused by the boat drifting against one of its great 
stone piers ; but this did not explain Uncle Phin’s 
disappearance. 

In his fear and distress of mind he began to call 

o 

wildly : “ Uncle Phin ! Oh, dear Uncle Phin ! where 
are you ? ” 


82 


UNCLE PHJN'S DANGER. 


83 


“ Hyar I is, Honey,” came a feeble voice from the 
other end of the boat, and Arthur sprang joyfully in 
that direction. 

As the boat had swung around on striking the 
bridge pier, its after end now pointed down stream, 
and Arthur had been standing at the bow, gazing 
back on the place where he was afraid Uncle Phin 
had been left. Now, as he reached the other end of 
the boat, he saw the old man’s white head and black 
face, just on the surface of the water, but a short 
distance from where he stood. He seemed to be 
sitting astride of some object, to which he clung 
desperately. Every now and then it would sink, 
and poor Uncle Phin would disappear completely, 
only to re-appear a moment later, spluttering, chok- 
ing, and exhibiting every sign of the utmost terror. 

For a moment Arthur did not in the least com- 
prehend the situation, and could not imagine what 
it was to which Uncle Phin was clinging. When it 
suddenly occurred to him that it was the long steer- 
ing sweep, the other end of which projected above 
his head over the roof of the cabin, his first im- 
pulse, and the one on which he acted, was to spring 
to this inboard end and throw his weight upon it, 


8 4 


BORING FOR OIL. 


with the idea of lifting the old negro clear of the 
water. As the steering sweep was a very nicely 
balanced see-saw, and as Uncle Phin’s body in the 
water, weighed less than Arthur’s out of it, the boy’s 
effort was crowned with a complete success, though 
its result was not exactly what ho had anticipated. 

To be sure, as Arthur flung himself upon one end 
of the long pole, the old man, astride the bit of plank 
fastened to its other end, was lifted into the air. It 
was, however, so suddenly and unexpectedly, that 
he lost his balance, toppled over, and again disap- 
peared headforemost beneath the water. At the 
same time the boy, at the inner end of the see- 
saw, was bumped down on the cabin roof. Then 
Uncle Phin’s end again descended into the water, 
just in time for the old man to grasp it as he came 
to the surface. 

With great difficulty he struggled into his former 
position, and turning a reproachful gaze on Arthur 
said : 

“Don’t you do it again, Honey. I ’se no doubt you 
means all right ; but anodder fling like dat ar, would 
drown de old man shuah.” 

“I did n’t mean to, Uncle Phin ! Indeed, I 


UNCLE PILIN' S DANGER. 


85 


did n’t ! ” cried poor Arthur, in great distress. “ I 
only meant to try and help you and lift you from 
the water.” 

“Well, you done it, Honey, shuah ’nuff ; but I 
would n’ try no more sich ’speriments. If you ’ll 
frow me de end ob de rope, what ’s lying jes inside 
the do, and tie de odder end to dat ar pos, I reckin I 
kin pull myself up outen de water.” 

Arthur quickly did as directed, and in a few min- 
utes more had the satisfaction of seeing his dear old 
friend rescued from his perilous position, and seated 
safely on the deck. As the water-soaked man sat 
there, recovering from his exhaustion, and grateful 
for the warmth of the hot morning sun, he shook 
his head, and said : 

“ I alius heerd tell dat salorin was a resky bizness, 
an dat dem what goes down into de sea in ships sees 
wonerful tings ; but I nebber spected ole Phin Dale 
ebber sperience it all fer his own sef.” 

After his strength was somewhat restored, Uncle 
Phin instructed Arthur to keep a sharp lookout for 
any more bridges, and went into the cabin to light a 
fire and prepare breakfast. A good supply of dry 
wood and a box of matches having been provided, 


86 


BORING FOR OIL . 


he quickly had a cheerful blaze crackling on his 
rude hearth. While it was burning down to a bed 
of red coals, he mixed the meal, salt, and water, that 
he intended should be transformed into a corn-pone, 
set the coffee water on to boil, and cut two slices of 
bacon. The smoke of the fire found its way out of 
the cabin through a square hatch that Brace Barlow 
had cut in the roof directly above it. 

In less than an hour the bed of coals had done its 
duty. The corn-pone had been baked on a flat 
stone, previously rubbed with a bacon rind, and set 
up at a sharp angle in the hottest corner of the 
fireplace. The slices of bacon were done to a turn, 
and four fresh eggs had been fried with them. The 
coffee was hot and strong, and there was maple 
sugar to sweeten it. Taken altogether, it was a 
breakfast that would have pleased a much more 
fastidious person than hungry little Arthur Dale 
Dustin, and he enjoyed it as, it seemed to him, he 
never had enjoyed a meal before. 

Uncle Plain’s delight at seeing his “ lil Marse” eat 
so heartily was unbounded, and they both found so 
much pleasure in their novel housekeeping that the 
mishap of an hour before was forgotten, and they 


UNCLE PH IN'S DANGER . 8 / 

would willingly have agreed to drift along in this 
happy way for the rest of their lives. * 

After every scrap of food had been eaten, and 
only grounds remained in the coffee-pot, Uncle Phin 
began to clear the table, which was an empty pack- 
ing-box, shake the table-cloth, which was a news- 
paper, and wash the dishes; while Arthur set to 
work to tidy up the cabin. He made the beds, 
which only took about one minute each, placed his 
precious book carefully on one of the shelves, and 
then looked about for a broom with which to sweep 
the floor. There was none. 

“ Why, Uncle Phin ! ” exclaimed the boy, “if we 
have n’t come off and forgotten the broom ! ” 

“ So we has, Honey ! so we has ! ” replied the old 
man, pausing in his work and assuming an expression 
of mock dismay, “ I ricollec now, when de furni- 
chure man putten in dem elergent brack walnut 
bedstids, he say, ‘ Misto Phin Dale, don you fergit 
somefin’; and I say, ‘No, Misto Furnichure man, I 
reckin not.’ Now, he mus er been meanin de broom all 
de time, an hyar we is come off an lef it behin.” 

“You are making fun of me, you know you are,” 
laughed Arthur ; “ but really, I do need a broom 


88 


BORING FOR OIL. 


very much, for I can’t make this place look tidy 
without one.” 

“ You mus hab one, ob cose,” said Uncle Phin, 
“an we ’ll jes run inter de sho and fin some white 
birch trees, an Unc Phin make you a twig broom, jes 
de fines you ebber seen.”- 

They were both glad of an excuse to stop and 
make a landing, for they were enjoying their voyage 
so much that they feared it might come to an end 
more quickly than they wished it to. So they went 
on deck, and watched for a good opportunity to run 
ashore. 

At last they drifted close into a grassy bank, 
above which were a number of huge oil-tanks, a 
brick building, and a neat white cottage. It was a 
pumping station on one of the great pipe lines 
through whicli crude petroleum is conveyed from 
the wells of the oil region to the distant seaboard 
refineries. At that time it was thought necessary to 
have relay stations of tanks, and pumps to force the 
oil along from one to another, every live or six miles. 
Of late years, however, the pumps have grown larger 
and stronger, until, on a recently constructed pipe- 
line leading into Chicago, one immense pumping 


UNCLE PILIN' S DANGER. 89 

engine forces the oil along the entire distance of 250 
miles. 

As the Ark drifted slowly along in front of this 
pleasant-looking place, Uncle Phin, directing Arthur 
how to steer, loosened the side sweep that was 
farthest from shore, and, by rowing with it, headed 
their craft in toward the bank. In a minute more 
she was so close to it that Arthur could easily 
spring to the narrow beach, carrying with him the 
end of a rope, that he made fast to a tree. 


CHAPTER XII. 


A TORRENT OF FLAME. 


HEN the boat was properly secured, Uncle 



Phin, leaving Arthur to look out for it, 


shouldered his axe and went in search of a birch 
tree. Within half an hour he returned, bringing a 
great bundle of twigs and the interesting informa- 
tion that there was r little boy and a little girl up 
in the bushes picking blackberries. 

“ Oh, can’t I go up there and pick some too ? ” 
asked Arthur; “they would be so good for dinner, 
and if I got enough you might make a pie, you 
know.” He was fully in earnest, for he had such 
firm faith in Uncle Phin’s culinary skill that he 
believed he could make anything good to eat that 
anybody else could. 

The old man only laughed at this, but said he 
might go if he wanted to; and the boy, taking a tin- 


A TORRENT OF FLAME . 


91 


cup in which to hold the berries, ran off, happily 
enough, to find the children. When he discovered 
them they were both standing still, bashfully look- 
ing at him, the little girl, in a pink sun-bonnet that 
reminded him of Cynthia’s, half hidden behind her 
brother and evidently just ready to run away. 

The new-comer at once opened conversation by 
saying : “ How do you do ? I am very glad to see 
you, because I have n’t very many friends. My 
name is Arthur Dale Dustin. What is yours ? ” 

The boy said his was Bert and his sister’s was 
Sue, and that their other name was Chapman. 
He added that their father was engineer of the 
pumping station, and that nobody else lived any- 
where near there. 

Within five minutes they were thoroughly well 
acquainted, and were all busily picking the luscious 
berries that abounded in that vicinity. Arthur said it 
reminded him of a fairy story, and little Sue Chap- 
man said she loved fairy tales, only she had not 
heard very many. So Arthur began to tell them 
the story of the “ Mermaid,” which was one that he 
had read to Cynthia ; but he could not remember it 
very well, and said if they would go down with him 


92 


BORING FOR OIL. 


to where lie lived he would read it to them out of 
his book. 

They readily agreed to this, and were so de- 
lighted with the queer house-boat and all that they 
saw on it that it was some time before they were 
ready to listen to the story of the mermaid. When 
it was finished they said they must go home now, 
but invited Arthur to come up to the house and see 
* them after dinner. 

That afternoon he met Mr. Chapman and Mrs. 
Chapman, and saw the great pumping engine at 
work, and was allowed to climb up and look into 
one of the large tanks that held thousands of barrels 
of oil, and had altogether a most interesting and 
happy time. The best of all though was playing with 
the dogs, of .which there were three, a mother and 
two half-grown pups, all thoroughbred bull terriers. 

The boy enjoyed these so much, and was so fas- 
cinated with their playfulness and intelligence, and 
Mr. Chapman took such a fancy to him, that he told 
Bert and Sue they might make their new friend a 
present of one of the pups if they wished. 

As Arthur had never owned a real live pet in his 
life, this seemed a most generous offer and he 


A TORRENT OF FLAME. 


93 


thanked the Chapmans warmly. They gave him 
his choice of the two pups, and each showed so 
many good points that it was a long time before he 
could make up his mind which to take. At length 
he chose one that was brindled, and had a white tip 
to his tail. His name was “ Russet,” but as the young 
Chapmans called him “ Rusty,” Arthur decided that 
he would call him so too. 

He carried the pup in his arms down to the boat ; 
but all the way it cried piteously at being taken 
from its home, and struggled hard to get free. 
Arthur made a bed for it at the foot of his own 
bunk and tried to feed it, but the pup refused to ac- 
cept his kindness, and only cried and whined and 
begged to be let out at one of the closed doors. 
Finally even good-natured Uncle Phin lost his pa- 
tience and said the pup needed a good whipping to 
make him keep quiet. 

“ Oh, no, indeed, Uncle Phin ! ” exclaimed Arthur, 
reproachfully ; “ I would n’t whip him for anything. 
How would you like to be whipped because you 
cried at being taken away from your mamma ? I Ve 
made up my mind that I won’t make him unhappy 
any longer ; and so, though I should love dearly to 


94 


BO RING FOR OIL . 


keep him if lie wanted to stay, I shall just carry him 
? back to his home. ” 

True to this resolve, the tender-hearted little fel- 
low did carry poor “ Rusty” back up the hill, and 
was made even happier by witnessing the extrava- 
gant joy of the pup and the mother dog at once 
more seeing each other, than he had been by receiv- 
ing the Chapmans’ gift. 

They made him stay to supper, after which the 
whole family said they would escort him down to 
the boat, of which Bert and Sue had talked so much, 
that their parents were curious to see it. So, taking 
a lantern with them, for it was growing dark, they 
started down the slope, at the bottom of which they 
met Uncle Phin, just coming to look for his “ lil 
Marse,” at whose long absence he had grown anxious. 

Mr. Chapman, who was much interested in this 
voyage of the old negro and his young master, had 
brought down a small lamp and a gallon of oil for 
it, as a present to them ; for Arthur had told him 
that they had no light on board. Mrs. Chapman 
brought a loaf of bread. Bert brought half a dozen 
eggs laid by his own hen, and little Sue, who could 
think of nothing else, brought a bunch of flowers 


A TORRENT OF FLAME. 


95 


from her own garden. They had a very merry time 
over the presentation of these gifts, for each of 
which Uncle Phin returned thanks in his own funny, 
earnest way. 

When Arthur said he wished he had something 
to give in return for them to remember him by, Mrs. 
Chapman said that if he would only read to them 
one of the stories out of his faiiy book that the 
children had told her of, it would be one of the most 
acceptable presents he could make them. This the 
boy was willing enough to do, and when the new 
lamp was lighted and placed on the packing-box 
that served as a table, and they had all found seats, 
he read to them the story of “ Little Klaus ” who 
made bushels of money by everything that he 
undertook. 

When he finished they all thanked him, and Bert 
said if he had a bushel of money he would buy a 
pony. Little Sue said she would get a great big 
doll, as big as a live baby, that could talk ; and her 
mother said if they only had money enough, they 
would live near a town where they could have 
neighbors, and where the children could go to 
school. Mr. Chapman said it would be very nice to 


9 6 


BORING FOR OIL. 


have a bushel of money and a fine house, but that 
they should be very thankful for the one they had, 
especially when such a storm was coming up, as was 
about to burst over them at that moment. 

Sure enough it was thundering, and the guests of 
the evening had not been gone from the Ark many 
minutes before great drops of rain began to fall. 
Nearer and nearer swept the storm, and blacker and 
blacker grew the night, until the awful glare of 
the lightning was almost continuous, and the crash 
of the thunder was deafening. Silently, hand in 
hand, the two occupants of the house-boat sat and 
watched it. 

Suddenly there fell a blinding, dazzling ball of 
fire, accompanied by such an awful burst of thunder 
as shook the solid earth. The next instant the 
whole sky was lighted by a vast column of flame 
that seemed to spring from the hillside directly 
above the place where the Ark lay moored. One of 
the great oil tanks had been struck by the lightning, 
and now a raging, roaring mass of flame shot up 
fifty feet into the air above it, lighting the river and 
the whole storm-swept country for miles around 
with its fierce, lurid glare. It was a grand but fear- 


A TORRENT OF FLAME. 


97 


ful sight, and the boy clung closer to tlie old man, 
as he gazed upon it with an eager fascination. 

They could not at first understand the deep boom- 
ing sounds that they began to hear above the roar 
of the storm, soon after the fire broke out, and which 
were repeated at regular intervals of a few minutes 
each. Then Arthur remembered what Brace Barlow 
had told him about firing cannon-balls into burning 
oil-tanks, that the oil might run out through the 
holes thus made, and the danger of an explosion be 
lessened. Mr. Chapman was shooting at this tank 
with a small cannon that he kept on hand for just 
such an emergency. 

All at once the contents of the tank seemed to 
boil over. A fountain of blazing oil burst from it 
and poured down its sides, the oil running from the 
shot-holes near its base took fire, and in another 
instant a fierce torrent of flame came rushing down 
the slope, directly toward the little house-boat 
moored at its foot. 

Poor Uncle Phin dropped on his knees in an 
agony of fear, crying : “ O Lawd ! 0 de good 
Lawd, hab mussy on us, an deiiber us frum de fiery 
funness ” ; while to Arthur it seemed as though they 
were in most imminent peril. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


HOW THE ARK WAS SAVED. 

I F the wind had been blowing from across the 
river, so as to hold the Ark close to the bank 
against which she was moored, nothing could have 
saved her from destruction by the torrent of blaxing 
oil that rushed down the slope. Even her occu- 
pants would have stood but a slight chance of escap- 
ing. The stream of leaping flame was so wide, and 
came toward them with such extraordinary swiftness, 
that, before they could have reached the shore and 
run beyond its limits in either direction, it would 
have been upon them. Their only chance would 
have been to throw themselves into the swift current 
of the river from the opposite side of their boat, 
with the hope of gaining the bank at a safe dis- 
tance below. 

Uncle Phin was helpless with terror and com- 
pletely bewildered by the suddenness of the peril 

98 


HOW THE ARK WAS SAVED. 


99 


that threatened them. Thus it was entirely owing 
to Arthur’s presence of mind and quick wit, that 
their boat was saved and they escaped the necessity 
of taking the desperate plunge that would probably 
have drowned one or both of them. The boy had 
noticed that the storm came from over the hills on 
their side of the river, and how, as the fierce blasts 
swept down and struck the broadside of the Ark, she 
tugged and strained at her moorings. Now he re- 
membered this, and was quick to turn his observa- 
tions to account. 

Seizing the axe he severed at a single blow the 
rope holding the boat at one end, and then, running 
to the other, cut that with equal promptness. Next, 
thrusting a long j:>ole into Uncle Phin’s trembling 
hands, he bade the old man shove off from shore 
with all his might, at one end, while, with a 
lighter pole, he did the same thing at the other. 
Their feeble strength would have availed little but 
for the powerful aid lent by the favoring gale. 
While this hurled the advancing flames fiercely 
toward them, it also drove them, at first slowly, then 
more rapidly, beyond reach of the danger. 

There were hardly ten feet of open water between 


TOO 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the Ark and the shore she had just left when the 
flames sprang down the bank and began to spread 
over the surface of the river, the oil burning here as 
readily as on land. For a minute it seemed as 
though the fire must catch and devour them after 
all. Its flames leaped eagerly forward, like a million 
writhing serpents, with red-forked tongues, darting 
after their prey. 

“Push, Uncle Phin ! Push for your life ! ” shouted 
Arthur from his end of the boat, where he was 
breathlessly exerting every ounce of strength that 
his sturdy young frame could yield. 

“ I ’se a pushin, Honey ! ” answered the old man, 
with the veins of his forehead standing out like whip- 
cords. “ I is a pushin ; but onless de good Lawd 
pushin wif us, we hain’t got no show.” 

But the good Lord did push with these, his helpless 
ones, and his strong wind bore their drifting boat 
forward faster than it did the hungry flames. The 
current, of course, set them down stream at the same 
time, and thus, moving in a diagonal direction, they 
soon found themselves in safety. They were beyond 
the limits of the sea of fire, that extended for a mile 
down the river, and a quarter of that distance out 


HOW THE ARK WAS SAVED. 


IOI 


toward its centre. Then the old man and the boy 
laid down their now useless poles and watched the 
wonderfully beautiful but fearful sight, while they 
recovered their spent breath. 

The great tank was still vomiting forth sheets of 
flame and clouds of smoke. None of the others had 
caught fire, and an occasional gleam of light, re- 
flected from the white walls of the Chapmans’ 
cottage, showed them that it was still safe. 

At length, as they were rapidly nearing the oppo- 
site side of the river, the current bore them around 
a sharp turn that almost instantly hid the whole 
glowing scene from them, and plunged them into a 
darkness, the more intense on account of the recent 
glare. 

With this turn of the river the gale, now acting 
on the other side of the boat, drove it back toward 
the bank they had left, and thus, for several hours, 
as they followed the windings of the crooked 
stream, they were carried now almost to one side 
and then nearly to the other. As they could see 
absolutely nothing of where they were, or whither 
they were going, they were quite ignorant of their 
surroundings. Nor did they know what happened 


102 


BORING FOR OIL . 


when, about midnight, their boat was driven vio- 
lently upon some obstruction, and its movement was 
suddenly arrested. 

The storm had passed so that there was no longer 
any lightning to give instantaneous photographs 
of the scene about them. The wind still blew a 
gale ; and, as they could hear it lashing the branches 
of the forest trees, apparently directly above their 
heads, they concluded that they must have been 
driven ashore. 

Although both Arthur and Uncle Phin were too 
excited, and too anxious, to go to bed, there was no- 
thing they could do to improve their situation until 
the morning light should disclose its features. So 
they closed the doors and windows of their house 
and lighted the new lamp. How snug and cheerful 
the rude little cabin now looked. How home-like it 
seemed, and what a fine shelter it was from the gale 
that was howling outside. 

j Arthur said he was hungry ; and, as Uncle Phin 
said he was hungry also, they drew upon their slen- 
der store of provisions for a light lunch, after which 
Arthur read aloud from his book the tale of “ The 
Steadfast Lead Soldier.” The old negro thought 


HOW THE ARK WAS SAVED. 


103 


it a very nice story, though not so good as it would 
be had the lead soldier been alive. Then he told 
Arthur, for about the thousandth time, the story of 
how Brer Rabbit and Brer Fox went a-fishing, and 
before it was finished the tired child was fast asleep. 
Then Uncle Phin lifted him gently into his bunk, 
and finding that the gale had subsided, almost to a 
calm, concluded to go to bed himself. 

So the Ark was again left to take care of itself, 
and when its inmates next awoke it was not only 
broad daylight, but nearly noon. They now discov- 
ered that their craft had indeed been driven ashore, 
on the same side of the river that they had left the 
preceding evening, though, of course, several miles 
below the pumping station. There were now no 
houses in sight, nor any traces of human beings, 
nothing so far as they could see but a thick forest. 
After a few ineffectual efforts they found that it was 
useless to try and push the Ark off with poles into 
deep water. She was hard and fast aground, and 
they could not budge her a single inch. 

So they decided to have breakfast first and make 
up their minds what to do afterwards, and while 
Uncle Phin prepared the simple meal, Arthur made 


104 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the beds and swept out the cabin with his fine new 
broom of birch twigs. 

After breakfast, or rather after dinner; for, al- 
though they did not know it, it was past one o’clock 
before they finished their meal, the entire crew of 
the Ark got overboard to examine her situation. 
They found she had grounded on a sand-bar that 
afforded her an easy resting-place, but which also 
held her in a firm grasp. Uncle Phin cut down a 
young tree, trimmed off its branches, and, using it as 
a lever, with a large rock as a fulcrum, tried to pry 
the boat off the bar, but to no purpose. The com- 
bined strength of the old man and the boy produced 
not the slightest effect upon her, and no wonder, for 
all the strength they could command was but weak- 
ness, compared with what was needed. 

It was a very unfortunate situation, particularly 
as they had only provisions enough to last a few 
days, and knew not where they were to obtain more. 
Then, too, as it was now the month of October, 
no more high water could be expected that year, 
and, in the meantime, the river would be apt to 
fall lower and lower, leaving their boat high and 
dry. 


HO W THE ARK WAS SAVED . 


105 


In going ashore to cut his lever, Uncle Phin had 
discovered a road, running parallel with the river. 
Now he proposed to walk down this road until he 
came to a house, in the hope of obtaining help, pro- 
vided Arthur was not afraid to remain alone and 
look after the Ark. 

Of course Arthur was not afraid, he scorned the 
idea. What should he be afraid of ? It was not 
likely that anybody would hurt a little boy like him. 
So Uncle Phin left him, and, wading ashore, disap- 
peared down the forest road. 

For some time the boy amused himself about 
the boat ; but his resources were few, and after an 
hour or so, he grew lonely, and began to watch 
anxiously for Uncle Phin’s return. Exposed to the 
full glare of the afternoon sun, the boat became as 
hot as an oven; and finally Arthur decided to take 
his book and wade ashore. There he would find a 
comfortable place, in the cool shade of the trees, 
from which he might the sooner perceive anybody 
approaching along the road. 

He found just such a place as he had longed for; 
a deliciously cool, shady glade, surrounded by 
spreading oak trees, and commanding a limited 


io6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


view of the road. After sitting here for some time, 
he discovered that there were ripe berries on the 
opposite side of the glade. When he had gathered 
and eaten these, he saw more berries beyond them, 
and still more at a greater distance. Then he found 
some lovely flowers, and thought it would be a fine 
idea *to gather enough of them to decorate the cabin 
of the Ark against Uncle Phin’s return. So he 
strolled carelessly on, from berries to flowers, and 
from one flower to another, until, all at once, the 
deepening shadows roused him to a knowledge of 
the fact that the sun was setting, and that he could 
no longer see either the road or the river. 


CHAPTER, XIV. 

A CAMP OF TRAMPS. 

I T was evidently high time to be getting home, 
and the boy started back in the direction he 
had just come. He was certain that it was the 
right direction, and yet the trees and bushes kept 
getting thicker and thicker, and he missed the open 
glades through which he had been strolling. This 
was clearly the wrong track ; and, facing directly 
about, he now attempted to retrace his latest 
course. 

It was rapidly growing dark ; strange night sounds 
were beginning to be heard in the forest, and a great 
dread began to clutch at the boy’s heart. Was he 
really lost, as the Babes in the Wood had been, and 
would he die there, and be covered with leaves, so 
that even his body could not be found, and nobody 
would ever know what had become of him ? 


107 


108 BORING FOR OIL. 

He began to call aloud; but only tbe forest 
echoes mocked him, and the night birds answered 
him with harsh cries. At length it was too dark 
to even try and walk any farther. The little fellow, 
frightened and weary, sank down at the foot of a 
great tree, that seemed to lean over him with an air 
of protection and sympathy. 

He would not cry. Uncle Phin had said that 
none of the Hales ever cried after they were grown 
up, and he was a Hale, almost grown up. Two or 
three big tears rolled silently down his cheeks ; but 
then that was something that might happen to almost 
anybody, at any time. It could not be counted as 
crying. 

As he sat there in the darkness, trying to be brave 
because he was a Hale, the sound of a peculiar, long- 
drawn, far-away cry, caused him involuntarily to 
look around ; though, of course, he did not expect 
to see anything through the darkness. He did see 
something, though, and it was a light. It was not a 
bright, clear light ; but a dim glow, just visible be- 
tween the tree trunks, and evidently at quite a dis- 
tance from where he sat. 

The boy’s spirits rose with a bound. He dashed 


A CAMP OF TP AMPS. 


IO9 


away the stealthy tear drops, and sprang to his feet. 
Things were coming out all right after all ; for a 
light meant people, who, according to simple-hearted 
little Arthur’s experience of the world, would be 
kind to him. They would probably invite him to 
stay to supper, and show him the way to the Ark 
afterwards. Then he would ask them to help him 
and Uncle Phin get the boat afloat, and his becom- 
ing lost would turn out to be the very best kind of 
a thing that could have happened after all. 

While these thoughts passed through his mind, 
the boy was making his. way, as rapidly as possible, 
through the woods in the direction of the light, that 
grew brighter and more distinct with each step. 
He still carried his precious book in one hand, and 
the great bunch of flowers that he had gathered, in 
the other. Suddenly he came to an abrupt pause on 
the edge of a shallow ravine, through which laughed 
and tumbled a small brook. The sides of the ravine 
were quite steep, and, almost at his feet, the boy 
saw a sight that filled him with amazement. 

About a glowing fire, occupying all sorts of easy 
positions, were grouped a number of men and one 
boy. They were ragged, dirty, and unshaven. 


I IO 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Their clothes were made up of odds and ends. Some 
of them were smoking short black pipes ; some were 
talking loudly; and others lay perfectly still, as 
though asleep. Two of the number seemed to be 
preparing supper ; for they were at work about the 
fire, and were evidently anxious regarding the con- 
tents of some tin cans, and several battered kettles. 
At a short distance from the fire were two or three 
rude huts of poles and branches. 

Although Arthur did not know it at the time, this 
was a tramps’ camp, to which all these vagrants of 
society, who happened to be prowling about that 
part of the country, flocked when night overtook 
them. Sometimes one or more, who were tired of 
tramping, and who had begged or stolen a stock of 
provisions, would remain here for several days, so 
that, from early spring until quite late in the 
autumn, the camp was never without a greater or 
less number of occupants. 

Now, although Arthur had never had any prac- 
tical experience with tramps, except to gaze curiously, 
from a respectful distance, at the few specimens he 
had seen, he instinctively shrank from making his 
presence known to the rough -looking fellows gath- 


A CAMP OF TP AMPS. 


Ill 


ered beneath him. It was pleasant to see the cheer- 
ful firelight, to hear the sound of voices, and to 
know that there were other human beings besides 
himself in that dark forest. It would also be very 
pleasant to the hungry boy if he could have some 
supper. Still, to venture down among those men 
might prove very unpleasant. So Arthur wisely 
decided to bear his hunger as best he might, and 
study them from a safe distance, at least for a while 
longer. 

All at once, from some part of the camp beyond 
the circle of firelight, came the same melancholy 
long-drawn cry that had first directed the boy’s 
attention to this place, and he now recognized it as 
the howl of a dog in distress. 

At the sound, the largest and most powerful of all 
the tramps, who had been lying motionless stretched 
at full length on the ground, sprang up, and in a 
fierce voice exclaimed : 

“ You Kid, fetch that pup here ! we ’ll see if we 
can’t give him something to ki-yi for, or else we ’ll 
stop his infernal yelp entirely.” 

The one boy of the camp, who answered to the 
name of “ Kid,” and was a tough -looking young 


1 12 


BORING FOR OIL. 


rascal, larger and apparently a year or two older 
than Arthur, hastened to obey this command. He 
disappeared, and in a minute returned dragging 
after him, by means of a bit of rope about its neck 
that was evidently choking it, a dog. As the bright 
firelight fell full upon the animal, Arthur was 
amazed to recognize it as the very one that had 
been presented to him by the Chapmans the day 
before. There could be no doubt of it ; for there 
were the same erect sharp-pointed ears, the same 
white-tipped little tail, and the same brindled mark- 
ings. It was indeed poor Rusty ; and Arthur’s 
heart ached to see him in so wretched a plight. How 
could he have come there ? What were they about 
to do with him ? This last question was quickly 
answered. 

The big tramp took the rope from the lad’s hand, 
at the same time bidding him go and cut a hickory 
switch. “ See that it ’s a good one too>” he added. 

This command was obeyed as the other had been, 
and in a few minutes the switch was ready. 

u Now whale him while I hold him,” ordered the 
big tramp, savagely. “ We ’ll give him a chance to 
do all his howling at once, and then we ’ll have some 


A CAMP OF TRAMPS. 


1 13 

peace for the rest of the night. Lay it on solid, and 
if you kill him, so much the better.” 

Arthur’s blood boiled at these words. How could 
anybody be so cruel ? Would the boy dare beat his 
dog ? 

The heavy switch was uplifted and brought down 
with vicious force on the animal’s back. The dog 
uttered a sharp cry of pain and terror. 

Again was the switch lifted ; but before it could 
descend it was snatched from the boy’s hand and 
flung away ; while he was confronted by a sturdy 
young figure w T ith blazing eyes. “How dare you 
strike my dog ? ” cried Arthur, in a voice that 
choked and trembled with anger. “ He is mine ! 
My very own ! And I won’t have him hurt. I won’t, 
I say.” 

The other boy stared at this one in open-mouthed 
amazement, while the tramps, who had been 
startled by the sight of the strange little figure, as 
it dashed into their camp from the dark forest, now 
gathered about the two to see the fun. 

“ Well, my bantam,” said the big tramp to Ar- 
thur, “I don’t know who you are, nor where you 
come from ; but you talk pretty big about your 


BORING FOR OIL . 


114 

dog. Kid here says it ’s his dog, and I reckon you ’ll 
have to settle it between you. Can you fight ? ” 

“ I don’t want to fight, ” replied Arthur, looking 
the big tramp bravely in the face. 

“ Oh, well then, it ’s the Kid ’s dog, and he ’ll do as 
he pleases with him. Kid, give the cur a kick. ” 
The boy lifted his foot but again Arthur sprang in 
front of him. “ You sha’n’t kick him, even if I have 
to fight you to make you stop it ! ” he cried. Then 
he clenched his fists, and his face grew very pale. 

“ That’s right, sonny!” said the big tramp, ap- 
provingly. “ I ’ll back you and hold your picture- 
book and nosegay. Take off your jacket like a little 
man. Now, fellers, form a ring and give the ban- 
tams a fair show. ” 


CHAPTER XY. 


Arthur’s fight to save rusty. 

I N all his life Arthur had never before found it 
necessary to fight, though he had certainly re- 
ceived provocation enough from his Cousin Dick to 
do so more than once. His own father had taught 
him to hate fighting and to avoid it if possible, as 
he would anything else that was ungentlemanly and 
wrong. At the same time Mr. Dustin had been too 
wise a man not to know that occasions may arise in 
everybody’s life when it becomes absolutely neces- 
sary to fight. He believed, for instance, that it is 
right and proper to do so in defence of the weak 
and helpless who have claims upon us for protec- 
tion, provided that is the only way of defending 
them, and this principle he had thoroughly instilled 
into his child’s mind. 

Mr. Dustin also believed that every boy should be 
taught to use the weapons with which nature has 


II 6 BORING FOR OIL. 

provided him — namely, his fists — for the protection 
of himself and others, just as he should be taught to 
read and write or do a thousand other things neces- 
sary to his success and happiness in life. 

Thus believing, and having been himself one of 
the best boxers in his college gymnasium, he had be- 
gun to instruct his little son in the art of self-defence 
on the very day that the boy’s mother began to 
teach him his letters. Now, therefore, although Ar- 
thur had never fought a battle with any other boy, 
he had a very fair knowledge of what he ought to 
do under the circumstances, and of how to do it. 

All his father’s talks upon the subject flashed 
into his mind, and he seemed to remember every 
word of them. He could almost hear the dear 
voice say : “ Never fight if you can help it, but if the 
time comes that you feel it to be your duty, then 
pitch in with all your heart, with all your strength, 
and with all your skill. Then fight just as long as 
you can stand, or until you have won a victory. ” 

In the present instance, surrounded as he was by 
fierce-looking, hard-hearted men, who acknowledged 
no law but that of brute force, and with poor little 
Rusty crouching at his feet, so certain was the boy 


ARTHUR'S FIGHT TO SAVE RUSTY. II 'J 

of his duty, that he prepared for the coming strug- 
gle with a brave heart, though with a very white 
face. 

The boy called “ Kid ” was perfectly willing to 
fight; in fact, there was nothing he enjoyed more, 
especially when, as in this case, he saw the prospect 
of an easy victory before him. So, as he stood up 
in front of Arthur, the firelight disclosed a broad 
grin on his dirty face. He looked so much stronger 
and heavier than his antagonist, that some of the 
men were touched with pity for the little fellow, and 
murmured that it was n’t a square deal. 

“ That ’s all right,” said the big tramp, who had 
taken charge of the affair. “ The young chap ’s got 
sand or else he would n’t be here. He ’s been talk- 
ing pretty big too, and now he ’s got the chance to 
show whether he can back up his words or not. ” 

To the amazement of the spectators the battle was 
a long and a hard one; for the new-comer’s pluck 
and skill were evenly matched against the other’s 
weight and a dogged pride that forbade him to 
yield to one younger and smaller than himself. Still, 
he was in the wrong, and he knew it ; while Arthur 
was in the right, and knew that he was. The boy 


Il8 BORING FOR OIL. 

who was fighting in defence of the weak and the help- 
less never once thought of giving in, and so the other 
had to. They finally went to the ground together, 
with Arthur on top, and this ended the struggle. 
The “ Kid ” began to cry : “ Lemme up ! lemme up ! 
I don’t want to fight no more wid a perfessional. 
Lemme up !” 

Then Arthur left him, and walked to where poor 
little Rusty was crouching, with his rope held by 
one of the tramps. Taking the rope in his hand, 
and lifting his brave, flushed face, blood-stained 
from a slight cut on his forehead, to that of the big 
tramp who had ordered the pup to be beaten, the 
boy asked : “ Is he my dog now ? ” 

“ Of course he is, sonny ; of course he is ! ” an- 
swered the big man, promptly. “ You ’ve fought 
the bulliest kind of a fight for him, and I ’d like to 
see the man as would try to take him from you.” 

As he spoke, the big tramp glared about him, as 
though wishing somebody would dare dispute his 
words, but nobody did. Every one of those who 
now crowded about the boy, anxious to shake hands 
with him and congratulate him on his victory, ex- 
pressed the heartiest approval of what the big man 


ARTHUR'S FIGHT TO SAVE RUSTY. 119 

said. They all seemed to regard Arthur as a hero, 
and to feel highly honored by his presence in their 
camp. Even his dog received a full share of praise 
and petting, and was utterly bewildered by the 
sudden turn in the tide of popular opinion concerning 
him. 

Seeing that the young champion was rendered 
uncomfortable by the over-officiousness of those who 
crowded about him, the big tramp, who seemed to 
exercise an acknowledged authority over them, or- 
dered the rest to clear out, and leave the little chap 
to him. Then he took Arthur to the brook, and 
bathed his face and hands, and even his bare feet, in 
its cool waters, with a degree of tenderness surprising 
in one so big and rough. 

A few minutes later supper was announced, and 
the big tramp made Arthur sit beside him on the 
ground, in front of a kettle that contained a most 
delicious-smelling stew of chicken and potatoes and 
onions and green corn, and several other things. 
To be sure, Arthur was obliged to eat his portion 
out of a hastily improvised bowl of birch bark, 
made for him by his big friend, with a rude wooden 
spoon provided by the same ingenious individual; 


120 


BORING FOR OIL . 


but how good it was ! How often that bark bowl 
was refilled, and how proud the cooks were to have 
the hero of the feast thus compliment them so 
highly. 

As for little Rusty, who seemed to recognize 
Arthur as his friend and protector, and kept close 
beside him, there never was a dog treated with 
greater consideration. Everybody wanted to feed 
him, and kept tossing choice morsels of food to him. 
He ate everything thus offered, with perfect impar- 
tiality, until at length he had no room for another 
morsel, and even the daintiest bits of chicken failed 
to tempt him. 

After supper all the tramps were anxious to learn 
something of Arthur’s history, and who had taught 
him to fight so skilfully, and how he happened to 
visit their camp. So he told them about his own 
dear father, who had given him boxing lessons, and 
about living with Uncle John and Aunt Nancy, and 
how he and Uncle Phin had decided to go to his 
grandfather’s in Virginia, and were travelling in a 
boat, and how it had run aground so that they 
could n’t get it off, and Uncle Phin had gone in 
search of help, and how he happened to get lost in 


ARTHUR'S FIGHT TO SAVE RUSTY . 


121 


the woods, and finally how he discovered their 
camp ; all of which was listened to with absorbing 
interest. 

When he finished, the big tramp spoke up and 
said: “Well, fellers, from this little chap’s account 
of hisself, I don’t see but what him and his old 
Uncle Phin is travelling through the country pretty 
much the same as we does, like gentlemen of leisure 
and independent means, as it were. In fact I should 
call ’em a couple of honest tramps, as is making 
their way through the world without asking no odds 
of nobody.” 

“ That ’s so,” assented several voices. 

“ Such being the case,” continued the big man, 
“ It is clearly our dooty to help ’em out of the fix 
they ’ve got into, and I move that we all go down 
to the river, first thing in the morning, and set their 
old scow afloat.” 

As this motion seemed to meet with general 
approval, Arthur was cordially invited to spend the 
night in the tramps’ camp, and was assured that they 
w^ould guide him to the Ark, and that it should be 
started on its voyage the very first thing in the 
morning. As there really seemed nothing else for 


122 


BORING FOR OIL . 


him to do, the little fellow accepted the invitation, 
though he wished he could get back to the boat 
that night, and thus relieve the anxiety that he 
knew Uncle Pliin must be suffering on account of his 
unexplained disappearance. 

In the meantime he had recovered his book from 
the big tramp, who had held it during the fight, and 
it now lay on the grass beside him. He had men- 
tioned that he sometimes read stories from this 
book to Uncle Phin, and now the big tramp said to 
him : “ Look here, sonny, why won’t you read a 
story to us out of your book, just to pass away the 
time ? If you will, I will give you some information 
that may prove useful to you in your travels, but 
which you can’t find in any book in the world.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


THE MEANING OF SOME QUEER SIGNS. 

RTHUR said lie would gladly read to the 



tramps if they cared to hear him, and at the 
same time he wondered what valuable information 
the man could possibly give him. 

Then all the tramps gathered as near to him as 
they could, and Arthur, sitting where the firelight 
shone brightest, with one hand laid protectingly on 
little Rusty, opened his precious book, and read the 
first story he came to, which happened to be that of 
“ The Ugly Duckling.” 

It was a striking picture, that of the fair-haired 
child, sitting in the red glow of the firelight, and 
reading a fairy tale to the rough men crowded about 
him, their uncouth figures half disclosed and half 
hidden in the dusky shadows. Close behind the 
big tramp, who was his father, sat the boy with 


124 


BORING FOR OIL. 


whom Arthur had fought, still looking sullen and 
crestfallen over his recent defeat, and occasionally 
casting glances of mingled envy and hate at his 
rival. « 

As the tale proceeded, his hard, young face took 
on a softer expression, and when it was finished he 
heaved a great sigh. 

“ Well, Kid,” said the big tramp, turning to him 
at the conclusion of the story, “ what do you think 
of that for a yarn ? You are a pretty ugly sort of a 
duck yourself, and who knows but what you may 
turn out to be a swan after all, some of these fine 
days.” 

“ It ’ll be a goose more like,” muttered one of the 
men ; and Arthur, lookiug pityingly at the lad, won- 
dered which it would be. 

Now it was the big tramp’s turn to fulfil his part 
of the bargain. This he began to do by taking a 
bit of chalk from his pocket and drawing with it 
several rude figures like these, X X $ — 4/ on a 
piece of birch bark. Showing them to Arthur, he 
told him that these were signs understood by all the 
tramps of the country, and that whenever they saw 
them chalked on gate-posts or fences or other con- 


THE MEANING OF SOME QUEER SIGNS. 1 25 

spicuous places near houses, they knew at once what 
they meant. “ This, for instance,” he said, pointing 
to one of the signs, “ means 4 Stingy people in this 
house; won’t give a poor tramp anything.’ This 
one means, 1 Savage dog in here ’ ; and this, ‘ Good 
people, and plenty to eat.’ ” Another meant, “ Man 
here keeps a gun for tramps ” ; and still another, 
“ Only women folks here ; no danger.” He also 
said that the older and best-known tramps had their 
private marks or autographs, which were very gen- 
erally known and recognized by all the others along 
their particular lines of travel. 

Arthur was greatly interested in this, and made 
copies of several of the marks thus shown him, so as 
to impress them upon his memory, though at that time 
he could not foresee that they would ever be of any 
use. At the close of this novel lesson, the big tramp 
told him that his name was Sandy Grimes, and 
showed him his own private mark or autograph, 
which was M, and said that Arthur was at liberty 
to use it, in proof of their friendship, whenever he 
found himself in company with any other tramps. 

The boy thanked him politely for this favor, 
though thinking to himself that he hoped the time 


126 


BORING FOR OIL . 


would never come when he should care to claim 
such a friendship. Then Arthur said he was tired, 
and would like to go to sleep, whereupon Sandy 
Grimes showed him a bed of dry leaves beside a big 
log near enough to the fire to feel its warmth, and 
told him he could lie down there. So there the 
tired little fellow lay, with Rusty nestled close be- 
side him, and watched the stars twinkling overhead 
until he fell asleep. 

Although on this occasion Arthur breathed great 
quantities of the night air that his Aunt Nancy had 
declared to be poison, its injurious effects were not 
apparent when he awoke the next morning, looking 
as bright and fresh as though he had slept in the 
downiest of beds. To be sure he felt somewhat stiff 
and sore ; but after his encounter with the young 
tramp, it would have been most surprising if he 
had not. 

The sun was just rising as he made his way to 
the brook to dip his face in its cool waters ; but the 
[camp was already astir. Tramps are proverbially 
lazy, but they are always among the earliest of risers. 
From the cheap lodging-houses and police-stations 
of the city they are turned out at daylight. The 


THE MEANING OF SOME QUEER SIGNS. 12? 

same thing happens in the country, where the thrifty 
farmer routs them out from his barn or haystacks, 
and hunger drives them from their camps at the same 
early hour. A want of food was what set this par- 
ticular camp astir by sunrise on this occasion; for 
its occupants had exhausted their entire supply on the 
feast of the previous evening. Now they were set- 
ting forth to beg, or steal, something to eat at the 
nearest farm-houses and villages. 

Some of them, careless of their promise made the 
night before to go with Arthur and help him and 
Uncle Phin get their boat afloat, had already left, 
while others sullenly refused to keep their word, 
now that they were iwiinded of it. However, five 
of them, including the big tramp and his boy, said 
they were going that way anyhow, and did n’t mind 
giving the youngster a lift with his scow if it did n’t 
take too long and prove too hard work. So, in a 
few minutes after leaving his bed by the old log, 
Arthur found himself walking down the ravine 
toward the river in company with five as dis- 
reputable and rascally- looking tramps as could be 
found in the country. 

He had not forgotten poor little Rusty. Oh, no 


128 


BORING FOR OIL . 


indeed ! Nor had the dog forgotten him, but now 
followed close at his heels without paying the 
slightest attention to any other person in the party. 
He had been stolen by the “ Kid ” from the Chap- 
mans’ house during the excitement caused by the 
burning oil tank, and had evidently suffered much 
at the hands of his captor, for never after that day 
did he see a tramp without growling and showing 
his teeth at him. 

The tramps’ camp was located but a few hundred 
yards from the road that ran along the river bank, 
and the relief party had hardly turned into it before 
Arthur, with a cry of joy, sprang forward and hung 
himself into the arms of Uncle Phin, who, looking 
the picture of misery and utter dejection, was hob- 
bling toward them. 

The old man was so overcome by joy and bewil- 
derment that for a few moments he was utterly 
speechless. Then he broke out with “ Tank de good 
Lawd, Honey, I is foun you ! Ole Phin die ob de 
heart broke shuah if he did n’t fin you pretty 
quick, an he’s bin sarchin fo you all de night 
long. ” This was said with such a heartfelt earnest- 
ness, that the boy realized in a moment how greatly 
his old friend had suffered. 


THE MEANING OF SOME QUEER SIGNS . 1 29 

Although Uncle Phin had found several houses 
during his absence of the afternoon before, none of 
their inmates had been willing to return and help 
him get the Ark afloat. He had not got back to it 
until after sunset, and then, to his dismay, had found 
it dark and deserted. 

Too greatly distressed to eat or sleep, he had spent 
the night in wandering up and down the road hunt- 
ing, and calling for, his “ lil Marse, ” and now that 
he had found him, his joy was almost too great for 
expression. 

It was but a short distance to where the Ark lay 
aground, and it was but a five minutes’ job for those 
sturdy tramps to work her off the sand-bar and set 
her once more afloat. 

The last thing Arthur did before scrambling 
aboard was to shake hands with the boy whom he 
had fought the evening before, and, as he bade 
him good-bye, he said : “ I hope you won’t be an 4 ugly 
duckling ’ much longer.” 

Then, with its three passengers safely aboard, the 
Ark slowly drifted away with the current, while the 
tramps watched it and waved their tattered hats in 
farewell to the bravest twelve-year-old boy they had 
ever known. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

PLEASANT DRIFTINGS. 

H OW really like a home their rude little old 
house-boat appeared to the boy, who had 
been lost in the woods and spent the night in a 
tramps’ camp, and to the old man, who had passed 
the long hours in wandering up and down the 
lonely road, searching for his lost one. What com- 
forts it contained, and with what a delightfully easy 
motion it glided down the sunlit river. Even 
Rusty seemed to feel that he was at home, and 
to recognize the place ; for the moment he was 
taken into the cabin, he sprang up on Arthur’s bunk, 
and nestled down at its foot, where the boy had 
prepared a bed for him two days before. 

While Uncle Phin was getting ready the break- 
fast for which they were all so hungry, Arthur and 
Rusty, who had fully recovered his spirits, had aline 


1.30 


PLEA SANT DRIFTINGS. 1 3 1 

game of romp, during which the dog displayed so 
much intelligence, and performed so many funny 
tricks, as to completely win his young master’s heart. 

When breakfast was finished, Uncle Phin and 
Arthur sat on the cabin roof, under a bit of an 
awning that the former had contrived, and talked of 
their recent experience, while watching, with the 
delight of simple natures, the exquisitely beautiful 
scenery through which they were drifting. Between 
them, apparently appreciating it all as much as they, 
sat Rusty, contentedly wagging his tail, the little 
white tip of which seemed the emblem of perpetual 
motion. He had evidently transferred all his affec- 
tion to Arthur, and the expression of his honest eyes, 
as he turned them upon his young master, was that of 
love and perfect confidence. 

This day was but the first of many such, during 
which the Ark, with frequent stops, drifted down 
the quiet river, ever southward, and, as its occupants 
fondly hoped, ever getting nearer to the far-away 
home that they sought. They always tied up to 
the bank at night, and every now and then they 
spent several days in a place, while Uncle Phin 
sought odd jobs of work, by which he might earn a 


132 


BORING FOR OIL. 


little money for tlie replenishing of their stock of 
provisions. 

During one of these stops, at a place where there 
was a large hotel, in which a number of the summer 
guests lingered for the enjoyment of the autumn 
scenery, something very pleasant happened to them. 
A boy of just about Arthur’s age and size, who was 
staying at the hotel, walked down to the river bank 
with his father. They were attracted by the quaint 
appearance of the Ark ; and, on going close enough 
to look in at one of its open doors, were surprised to 
see that its occupants were an old negro and a bare- 
footed boy, the first of whom was patching a small 
garment, while the other read aloud to him. The 
new-comers had little difficulty in forming the ac- 
quaintance of Arthur, Uncle Phin, and Rusty, or in 
learning their story. 

In answer to Uncle Phin’s anxious inquiry as to 
whether he knew of any work to be had in that 
neighborhood, the gentleman said he did not. Then, 
with a little hesitation, he added that if Arthur 
cared to come up to the hotel that evening, and read 
a story out of his book at a children’s entertainment 
they were going to have, he would give him a dollar. 


PLEASANT DRIFTINGS. 


133 


Glancing sadly down at his ragged clothes, the 
boy said he should like ever so much to do so, but 
did not see how he could. * 

Thereupon the gentleman, understanding the 
glance, said that his present costume was so pictu- 
resque that he wanted him to come just as he was, 
ragged, barefooted, and all. So Arthur went, being 
more proud of his ability to earn a whole dollar than 
he was ashamed of his appearance, and his reading 
was such a success that all the people were anxious 
to know who he was. 

When it was over, the kind gentleman invited 
him to his room, where Arthur found a complete 
suit of the other boy’s clothes, including shoes, 
stockings, and a round cap, which the gentleman 
said were for him, and insisted upon his putting on 
at once. 

So the boy was again dressed, and made to feel 
like a young gentleman; and, when he reappeared 
down-stairs, nobody knew him, at first, for the one 
who had read to them. 

The next day a gay party of these hotel guests 
chartered the Ark for an excursion, and drifted 
down the river on her, in company with Arthur and 


134 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Uncle Phin and Busty, to a point about five miles 
below the village, where carriages were waiting to 
take them back. For this use of the boat they 
paid two dollars, besides leaving enough provisions 
behind them to last our friends for several days. 

By the kind gentleman, who appeared greatly in- 
terested in their journey, Arthur and Uncle Phin 
were advised to sell their boat in Pittsburgh, as that 
would offer a better market than points farther on, 
and to take the cars from there. 

So the whole month of October passed before the 
happy voyage was ended, and, late one afternoon in 
November, the Ark was moored at the mouth of a 
small creek on the outskirts of the city of Pittsburgh. 
It was a region of iron- works, of foundries, furnaces, 
and rolling mills, a place of noise and heat, and 
never-ending weariness. A dense cloud of black 
smoke hung low above it that still November even- 
ing, and, though the air was comparatively pure 
where the boat was moored, its pall-like presence 
seemed to cast a foreboding of evil days over the 
hearts of our travellers. As the darkness drew on, 
the smoke clouds were illumined by a strange, lurid, 


PLEASANT DRIFTINGS . 


135 


glare like that of a great volcano. It was a weirdly 
beautiful sight ; but it filled them with uneasiness ; 
and, after watching it for a while, they were glad to 
enter their cosey little cabin, and close it to all out- 
side influences. 

With heavy hearts they prepared and ate their 
evening meal ; for there was only food enough left 
for a slender breakfast, and they had no money with 
which to purchase more. After supper they began 
seriously to consider their plans for the future, of 
which they had talked but vaguely thus far. 

“ Is n’t it too bad that we can’t go all the way in 
this boat ? ” said Arthur. 

“It is so, Honey,” replied Uncle Phin, “but dars 
no use er frettin. We ’ll go by de kyars and be 
dar in mos no time now.” 

“ Do you think we ’ll get money enough to pay 
for riding on the cars, Uncle Phin?” 

“ Sho, Honey ! You does n’t know much about 
trabblin, dats a fac ; why it don’t take no money 
fer to ride on de kyars. De man wif de brass but- 
tens, what owns ’em, jes gib you a lil ticket, and den 
you ride as long as you like.” 


136 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Arthur was inclined to doubt this statement ; but 
Uncle Phin was so positive, that he tried to believe 
it. The truth was that, on the only two railroad 
journeys he had ever taken in his life, Uncle Phin’s 
tickets had been bought and paid for without his 
knowledge, and handed to the conductor by Mr. 
Dustin, together with the others for his little party. 
Then a conductor’s check had been stuck in the old 
man’s hat-band, and he had ridden unquestioned to 
his journey’s end. Thus he was led to believe that 
railroads w’ere built, and cars run upon them, for the 
free accommodation of all who were compelled by a 
hard fate to move restlessly from place to place, 
and he felt very grateful for the kindness thus 
extended. 

“ But Brace Barlow said we could sell the Ark 
for enough money to carry us the rest of the way 
when we got here, you told me so, yourself,” said 
Arthur, “ and what did he mean if it is n’t going 
to cost anything ? ” 

“ Why, Honey, he mean to pay fer de grub we 
mus hab while we is a trabbliu, an fer de candies 
and picshur books, what de boy in de kyars bans 
roun. You is jes nacherly ’bleeged to pay fer dem, 


PLEASANT DRIFTINGS . 


137 


ob cose. Yo fader alius done dat,” answered the 
old man. 

“ Then we will have to sell the Ark to-morrow, I 
suppose,” said Arthur, looking regretfully about the 
rude little cabin that had been so pleasant a home 
to him. 

“ To be shuah, Honey. We jes drap a bit furder 
down de ribber, inter de bizness place ob de city, 
fust ting in de mornin. Den we sell de boat, an 
take to de kyars what ’s boun fer ole Ferginny, an 
maybe by to-morrer night we is all safe an soun at 
Dalecourt.” 

“ How much do you think we will get for the 
boat ? ” 

“ I don know per zackly, Honey. It ’ll be cordin 
ter de deman fer boats. Maybe five dollar, maybe 
ten. Depens on what dey is er fetchin,” replied 
Uncle Phin, whose ideas as to the value of this sort 
of property were of the vaguest description. 

As their backs were turned to the cabin window 
that was nearest the shore, neither Arthur nor Uncle 
Phin knew that, during this conversation, an evil- 
looking face was peering in at them, and that its 
owner was an attentive listener to all that they said. 


138 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Now, as they looked up, startled by an uneasy 
growl from Rusty, who had just detected the 
stranger’s presence, and sprang barking toward the 
window, the face was hastily withdrawn, and 
appeared no more. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE ARK IS STOLEN". 



HE next morning, after eating the very last of 


J- their provisions, which they shared impartially 
with Rusty, they cast the Ark loose from its moor- 
ings, and allowed it to drift a mile or two down past 
the city water front. At length they reached a place 
of comparative quiet, amid the bewildering number 
of steamboats, tugs, and barges, by which they were 
now surrounded. It was just below a great bridge 
that spanned the river at this point, and here, after 
half an hour of anxiety and hard work, they finally 
succeeded in making their boat fast to the levee. 

Then, not knowing what else to do, they waited 
patiently for some hours, in the hope that a customer 
would appear, and make them an offer for the Ark. 
But of all the hurrying throngs who passed the 
place, no one paid the slightest attention to them. 


140 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Uncle Phin had just decided that it would be neces- 
sary for him to go ashore, and in some way make it 
known that he had a boat for sale, when a stranger 
came walking briskly toward them, and sprang 
aboard. 

Growling savagely, Rusty would have flown at 
the man, whom he recognized as the one who had 
looked into the cabin window the evening before, 
had not Arthur seized and held him. 

“ Good-morning,” said the stranger, politely. “ Fine 
watch dog you Ve got there.” 

“ Yes,” replied Arthur, “ he is ; but I never knew 
him to want to bite anybody before.” 

“ Oh, well,” said the man, “ he probabiy is n’t used 
to city folks ; but he will get over that. I came to 
ask if this boat is for sale.” 

“ Of course it is,” replied the boy, delightedly. 
“ We have been hoping somebody would come along 
who wanted to buy it.” 

Then they showed the stranger all over the boat, 
explaining to him what an unusually fine craft it 
was, and, before long, had told him all he wanted to 
know of their history and plans. 

He was a shabbily-dressed man ; but they were 


THE ARK IS STOLEN. 141 

accustomed to seeing such people, and never for a 
moment mistrusted him when he said that he was 
looking for just that kind of a boat, in which 
to take his family to New Orleans for the winter. 
They only congratulated each other, on securing a 
customer so readily, by exchanging sundry significant 
looks and smiles behind his back. 

At length he asked their price for the boat, and 
Uncle Phin, emboldened by his praise of the craft 
and evident desire to possess her, answered that, as 
boats seemed to be in pretty good demand, he thought 
this one ought to be worth twenty dollars. 

“ Nonsense ! ” exclaimed the stranger. “ Twenty 
dollars ! why, she is worth fifty, if she is worth a 
cent, and I could n’t think of offering any less for 
her. Say fifty and we ’ll call it a bargain.” 

Was there ever such a generous and honest man ? 
Both Arthur and Uncle Phin thought there never 
was, as they gladly accepted this magnificent offer, 
and thanked him for it besides. 

“ Now,” said the stranger, u business is business, 
and I should like to take possession of the boat at 
once ; while I presume you are anxious to pursue 
your journey. If you will just step up-town with 


142 


BORING FOR OIL. 


me to my bank, I will pay you the fifty dollars, and 
,on the way I will show you the station of the rail- 
road that goes to Virginia. Then we ’ll get a team 
to come down here for your baggage, and you ’ll be 
all right.” 

Neither Arthur nor the old negro could think of 
any particular baggage that they wished to carry 
with them, unless it was their bedding, and Uncle 
Phin’s axe, and they told the stranger so. He said 
they might think of something else after they had 
got their money, and that at any rate they had better 
go up-town with him and secure it at once. 

Arthur suggested that it might not be safe to 
leave the boat all alone, and proposed that Uncle 
Phin go for the money, while he and Rusty stayed 
behind to guard it. 

“Oh, that ’s all right,” said the stranger. “You 
never knew such honest folks as live round here. 
They would n’t touch anything that did n’t belong 
to them for the world. Besides I want you both to 
sign the bill of sale, and the receipt for the money.” 

So, after carefully closing the cabin doors and 
windows, the trusting old man, and the boy, igno- 
rant as yet of the world’s wickedness, accompanied 


THE ARK IS STOLEN. 


143 


the plausible stranger up-town. Arthur led Rusty 
by a bit of rope fastened to the leathern collar 
Uncle Phin had made for him, and had some diffi- 
culty in keeping him at a safe distance from the 
stranger, toward whom the dog seemed to have 
taken the greatest dislike. Moved by some impulse 
that he could not have explained, the boy had also 
taken his precious book from its shelf, at the last 
moment, and now carried it under his arm. 

The stranger continued to be very polite and en- 
tertaining, as they walked through the crowded 
streets, and pointed out several places of interest, 
among others the railway station from which they 
were to take the train for Virginia. 

They walked so far that Arthur began to grow 
tired, and was very glad when they at length entered 
a fine building, above the doorway of which he read 
the word “ Bank ” in large letters. Here both the 
old man and the boy were awed and bewildered by 
the imposing appearance of the interior into which 
they were ushered. They wondered at the number 
of desks, at which busy clerks sat writing behind a 
high and strong iron grating, and at the crowds of 
people who stood in long lines before the little win- 


144 


BORING FOR OIL . 


dows in it, or passed hurriedly to and fro. Leading 
them to a retired corner, out of the throng, their 
guide bade them wait there for a few minutes, while 
he prepared the papers that it would be necessary 
for them to sign, and procured the fifty dollars. Then 
he mingled with the crowd of men about them, and 
disappeared. 

For fifteen minutes or so, the attention of the old 
man and the boy was fully occupied by the novel 
scenes about them, and in keeping Rusty quiet. 
Then they began to watch anxiously for the stranger’s 
return, and to grow somewhat uneasy over his non- 
appearance. When half an hour had passed, they 
were thoroughly alarmed, and began to walk up 
and down the crowded space, in front of the iron 
grating, peering wistfully into the faces of those who 
filled it, but without seeing him whom they sought. 

At last a man, who had been closely watching their 
movements for some time, stepped briskly up to them, 
and laying a hand on Uncle Phin’s shoulder said : 

u Come, get out of here, old man. I ’ve had my eye 
on you ever since you came in, and it ’s evident that 
you have no business here.” 

“ But, boss, we ’se a lookin fer ” 


THE ARK IS STOLEN. 


145 


“ Yes, I know you are looking for something you 
wont find here, so clear out, or else I ’ll have to put 
you out.” 

There was no use offering a further resistance to 
the detective, and so the next minute our two friends 
found themselves in the street, utterly bewildered, 
and not knowing which way to turn. 

“ What do you suppose it all means, Uncle Phin ? ” 
asked Arthur. 

“ Don know, Honey. Hit beat de ole man’s ’spe- 
rience, and he don pear to know nuffin about hit.” 

“ There is something wrong any way,” said the boy, 
decidedly, “ and I think the best thing we can do is 
to get back to the boat as quick as possible.” 

By inquiring they found out in which direction 
the river lay, and started to make their way to it as 
fast as they could. It was a long, weary walk, and 
when they finally reached the river, they spent nearly 
an hour searching and inquiring before they discov- 
ered the bridge near which the Ark had been left. 

Now the boat was nowhere to be seen. In vain 
did they gaze up and down the river. They saw 
other house-boats, and many strange craft of all de- 
scriptions, but nothing that looked in the least like 

10 


146 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the one that had sheltered them for so long that it 
seemed like a very home. Then the truth began to 
dawn upon them. Their boat had been stolen, 
probably by the very man who had persuaded them 
to accompany him up- town, and then deserted them. 

This belief was finally confirmed by a good-natured 
boatman of whom they made some inquiries, and 
who told them that the craft for which they were 
looking had been boarded and taken away by a 
couple of men more than two hours before. They 
had of course floated off down the river, and the 
boatman said the only thing for them to do was to 
hire a tug and go after her. 

As this would have cost at least twenty dollars, 
and as they did not have a cent, it was of course out 
of the question. What were they to do ? And 
what was to become of them ? 

It was now late in the afternoon, and in addition 
to being very tired they were very hungry. This 
latter unpleasant sensation was evidently shared by 
poor Rusty, who began to whine and look pleadingly 
up into his young master’s face. To add to their 
misery, the dense smoke clouds that had been hang- 
ing lower and lower over the city now enveloped it 


THE ARK IS STOLEN. 


l 47 


entirely in damp, sooty folds, and a cold, drizzling 
rain began to fall. 

Poor Arthur felt so utterly wretched that he 
would have cried, but for the remembrance that 
he was a Dale. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


PENNILESS WANDERERS IN A STRANGE CITY. 

RIENDLESS and penniless in a strange city ; 



A cold, wet, and hungry, with night near at 
hand. This was the present condition of little 
Prince Dusty and his Uncle Phin, as, realizing that 
they had been cruelly deceived and robbed by the 
stranger who had proposed to purchase their boat, 
they turned slowly away from the river. They knew 
not where to go ; but, moved by the impulse that 
prompted them to seek shelter from the storm, they 
walked toward the buildings on a street that fronted 
the broad, sloping levee. 

If they only had something to eat, their future 
might not seem so dark. Then they could talk 
over their situation and decide upon some plan. 
Now they could neither talk nor think of anything 
but the terrible hunger that turned their strength 


PENNILESS WANDERERS. 1 49 

into weakness and drove every other thought from 
their minds. 

It was now twenty-four hours since they had 
eaten a satisfactory meal; for their mouthful of 
breakfast had only whetted their appetite for more. 
Uncle Phin had known what hunger was before, 
and was thus somewhat prepared to bear its suffer- 
ings. Even Rusty’s patient dog nature enabled him 
to suffer in silence, only revealing his misery by an 
occasional whine, and by appealing glances at his 
young master’s face. To this same young master, 
however, the hunger wolf had never seemed so 
fierce, nor so terrible, as now. Many a night had 
the fatherless boy been sent to bed by his Aunt 
Nancy without any supper, and at such times he had 
been very hungry ; but never had he imagined such 
a longing for food as he now experienced. 

“ Oh, Uncle Phin ! ” he moaned, “can’t you think 
of any way to get something to eat ? Just a loaf of 
bread or some crackers. It does n’t seem as if I 
could stand it much longer.” ( 

“ Well, Honey ! my pore lil honey lamb ! de ole 
man is a rackin his brain, an a projeckin, an a 
thinkin, and it ’s mo’n likely he ’ll strike up wif some 


BORING FOR OIL . 


150 

j}lan dreckly. You see des yeah ’sperience hab kim 
up powerful sudden, an its umposserbilities hab tuk 
me by ’sprise. Now we might sell dat ar dorg Rusty 
fer ernough to buy a squar meal, ef we know’d whar 
to fin a pusson what wanted a dorg.” 

“ Sell Rusty, Uncle Phin [ Sell my dear little 
dog ! Why, I ’d starve first.” 

“ Dats it ! Dats jes de way I knowed ’t would be,” 
said the old man, shaking his head sadly. 11 Well, 
dars dat ar book ob yourn. We mighter ” 

“ My precious book, that the beautiful lady gave 
me ! ” cried the boy. “ Why, Uncle Phin, that ’s 
worse than Rusty. I would n’t give it up for any- 
thing in the world ; not even for a great heaping plate 
of hot buckwheat cakes, with maple syrup on them.” 

“ Or a fat possum roasted in a hole in de groun ? ” 
suggested the old man, his mouth watering at the 
thought. 

“ No, nor a beefsteak with baked sweet potatoes, 
and hot rolls,” said the boy, who, under the circum- 
stances, was certainly placing a high value on his 
book. 

“ Or a big dish er hominy smoking frum de kittle 
wif a plenty er pok gravy,” added Uncle Phin 


PENNILESS WANDERERS. 


51 


eagerly, unable to conceive of anything more likely 
to tempt a hungry little boy than this. 

“ No, not for anything that was ever cooked, or 
ever will be, would I give up my own dear book,” 
said Arthur stoutly. 

They had found a temporary refuge from the rain 
in a doorway, and stood within its shelter during 
this exchange of the tantalizing thoughts uppermost 
in their minds. Nearly opposite to them was a 
street lamp that had just been lighted, and they 
watched the lamplighter enviously, as he shouldered 
his flaming torch and walked away, whistling merrily, 
doubtless to a home and supper. 

Now, as in answer to Arthur’s last remark, Uncle 
Phin was saying : “ Well, den, Honey, I don see but 
what we ’se got er go hungry twel tomorrer, when 
maybe I kin git er job er wood sawin,” there came a 
quick rush of feet on the wet flagging. Arthur 
turned to look at the flying figure, and gave a little 
cry of recognition, as the light from the street lamp 
fell on its face. At the same instant Rusty recog- 
nized in it his old persecutor, the boy with whom 
his young master had fought in the tramps’ camp. 
With a growl he sprang forward. Arthur still held 


152 


BORING FOR OIL. 


tlie end of his rope, and the dog’s movement was so 
sudden that it nearly threw him down. As it was, 
he stumbled, and the precious book, so recently the 
subject of their conversation, fell to the sidewalk. 
The next moment another figure, and this time it 
was that of Sandy Grimes, the big tramp, rushed 
past, evidently in pursuit of his boy, and then all 
was again quiet. 

Recovering himself, and taking a firmer hold on 
the rope that held the still excited Rusty, Arthur 
stepped forward and picked up his book of fairy 
tales. As he did so, a bit of dark paper, that seemed 
to fall from between its leaves, fluttered to the wet 
stones, and this the boy also picked up. Curious to 
see what it was, he held it to the light and uttered a 
cry of incredulous amazement. 

It was a bank bill for five dollars ; and, although 
Arthur did not know it at the time, it was the same one 
that his friend, Brace Barlow, had slipped between 
the leaves of the book on the night that he bade 
them farewell. Why Arthur had not discovered it 
long before, will always be a mystery that can only 
be accounted for by the fact that the book was a 
large one, and contained many stories, several of 


PENNILES$ WANDERERS. I 53 

which he had not yet read. Between the leaves of 
one of these the bill had probably been all this time, 
and now, in the hour of the boy’s sorest need, it came 
to him as though it were indeed a gift from the fairy 
god-mother who had written the inscription upon the 
fly-leaf of the volume. 

Arthur’s excitement was fully shared by Uncle 
Phin, though with the old man it assumed a quieter 
and more reverent form. He said : “ De good Lawd 
seen de fix we was in, Honey, an He sen dis yeah 
in place ob er raben, fer our suppah. Dats what 
we ’se er wantin de mostes, an dats what we oughter 
to be gettin de fustes ting.” 


CHAPTER- XX. 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. 


O Uncle Phin’s proposition the boy fully 



X agreed. Even Rusty seemed to comprehend 
that his young master’s fortunes had taken a turn for 
the better; and, as they started up the street, in 
search of a place where they might obtain food, he 
danced about them barking joyously. 

Before long they discovered a very small and 
humble bake shop, kept by a colored aunty, who 
looked almost as old as Uncle Phin; but who was as 
stout as he was thin, and whose head was covered 
by a Madras kerchief of vivid reds and yellows. 
She was not expecting any customers this stormy 
evening, and at first regarded the new-comers with 
suspicion, evidently fearing that they were about to 
appeal to her for charity. This, by the way, as 
they afterwards learned, was her name, “ Aunt 


154 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. 


155 


Charity.” She was, however, reassured by the sight 
of the five-dollar bill in Uncle Phin’s hand, by the 
old man’s extreme politeness, and by Arthur’s 
honest blue eyes. In spite of his clothes being rain- 
soaked and mud-stained, he was so evidently a little 
gentleman, that she involuntarily dropped him a 
curtsey when, in winning tones, he said : “ Please, 
ma’am, get us something to eat. We are nearly 
starved ; but we have the money to pay for it, and 
I think we would like to have a good deal of most 
everything you have.” 

“ To be suttinly, sah ! To be suttinly, my pore 
lamb. You shall hab de bes Aunt Charity kin 
skeer up, dreckly,” answered the old woman, drop- 
ping her curtsey, and gazing compassionately at the 
little fellow. “ Ef you’d like to dry yo’sefs, while 
I ’se er gittin sumpin ready, yo’se welkum to step 

inter de kitchun, an set by de fire, Misto ” 

Here she paused and looked at Uncle Phin, as 
though waiting for him to complete her sentence by 
introducing himself. 

“Phin Dale ob Dalecourt, Ferginny,” said the 
old man, promptly, adding, “ and dis my lil Marse 
Arthur Dale Dustin. We is a trabblin to his gran- 


156 


BORING FOR OIL. 


paw’s, an is to take de kyars fo Dalecourt, soon as 
we is eatin our suppah.” 

As Aunt Charity had also spent the earlier days 
of her life in Virginia, a bond of sympathy was at 
once established between them, and she bustled 
about, with surprising agility for one of her size, to 
make the travellers comfortable. She had intended 
supplying their wants from the counter and well- 
tilled shelves of her little shop ; but, after they were 
comfortably seated in the friendly warmth of the 
kitchen stove, she decided to make a pot of tea, and 
then to fry a rasher of bacon with some eggs. Nor 
did she neglect their immediate wants, while prepar- 
ing these things. Hunger was so plainly stamped 
on their faces, that it would have been cruel to keep 
them ^waiting a single minute before beginning to 
satisfy it. So she gave them each a big, shiny- 
topped bun, with currants in it, and when she saw 
Arthur breaking off a piece of his for Rusty, she 
immediately got another for the hungry dog. 

What a pleasant contrast this cheerful, low-ceiled 
kitchen, with its glowing stove, presented to the 
cold, and wet, and darkness of the streets through 
which they were wandering so hopelessly but a few 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. I 57 

minutes before. How thoroughly Arthur and 
Uncle Phin appreciated its comforts, and what 
glances, expressive of gratitude and complete satis- 
faction, they exchanged as they sat on opposite 
sides of the stove, well back so as not to interfere 
with the ponderous but bustling movements of the 
mistress of the establishment. 

In the darkest corner of the room was a high, 
calico-curtained bedstead, from beneath which pro- 
jected one end of a low trundle-bed. In this could 
just be distinguished two little woolly heads, from 
which two pairs of wide-open black eyes gazed won- 
deringly at the strangers, and the busy scene about 
the stove. 

When Uncle Phin inquired, with an air of well- 
feigned interest, if those were her children, Aunt 
Charity paused in her work for a moment, and, 
standing with arms akimbo, regarded them with 
great complacency, as she answered : “ No, Misto 

Phin Dale, deys not my ownly chillun ; but deys 
my gran’chillun, once remobed. You see deir maw, 
she my ole man’s fustes wife’s gal, by her fustes hus- 
ban’. So when dey came to be twins an’ orfuns at 
de same time, I wuz deir nex ob kin, an dey nach- 


158 


BORING FOR OIL. 


erly fell to my sheer ob de estate. Now, I ’se gwine 
gib ’em a eddicashun, and train ’em up fer de white- 
wash an kalsermine bizness.” 

Warm and dry, strengthened and refreshed by 
their supper, of which little Rusty had eaten his 
full share and would now have greatly preferred 
lying under the stove to going out into the stormy 
night, our travellers again set forth on their journey. 
Had Aunt Charity’s mite of a house afforded a spare 
room she would have invited them to occupy it 
until morning ; but it did not, and she had no place 
to offer them. Then, too, Uncle Phin was most 
anxious to start at once, now that they had money, 
in hopes that it would last until they reached 
their journey’s end. So interested had Aunt Charity 
become in the young lad who was so bravely seek- 
ing a distant home in place of the one where 
he had been cruelly and unjustly treated — for 
Uncle Phin had told her the whole of Arthur’s 
history, — that she at first refused to receive any pay 
for their supper. Both Arthur and Uncle Phin 
insisted so strongly that she should, that at length 
she consented to take twenty-five cents, but no 
more. She also forced into Uncle Phin’s hands a 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. 


59 


paper bag full of rolls and cakes for Arthur just 
as they left, and stood in the doorway watching 
them until they were lost to sight in the shadows 
of the dimly lighted street. 

Aunt Charity had given them directions for reach- 
ing the railway station, so that they had no trouble 
in finding it. Here they were quickly bewildered 
by the hurrying throngs of people and great trucks 
of baggage that were being trundled up and down 
the platform, the puffing and snorting of engines, 
and the dazzling white light of the electric lamps. 

At last Uncle Phin ventured to address a man in 
a cap and blue coat, whom he took to be one of the 
railway officials. 

“Please, sah,” said the old man, bowing humbly 
and pulling at the brim of his tattered hat, “which 
ob de kyars is er gwdne to Ferginny?” 

“ Which way are you bound ? ” asked the official, 
sharply. “ East or west ? ” 

Uncle Phin did not know. 

“ Let me see your tickets ? ” 

Uncle Phin had none. “De man haint passen 
ob ’em roun yet,” he said. 

“ Are you going to Richmond, Virginia ? ” 


i6o 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ Near by dar, sab ! Clus on to it ! ” cried the old 
man, eagerly, delighted at hearing the familiar name. 

"Well, then you want to take the first through 
train going east, and it won’t be along till mid- 
night.” 

With this the busy railroad man hurried on, 
leaving our friends gazing at each other in dismay. 
Midnight ! and now it was only seven o’clock. 
What should they do and where should they go to 
pass those five hours ? They did not dare go very 
far from the railway station, and so they wandered 
aimlessly about in the darkness near it, growing 
more weary, more wet, cold, and uncomfortable with 
each moment. 

At length they paused before an empty freight 
car, one door of which was partly open. Why not 
seek shelter from the storm in it ? 

Nobody saw them as they climbed into the car, 
which they found to be half filled with sacks of corn- 
meal. On these they made themselves quite com- 
fortable, and here they decided to wait patiently 
until the lighted clock on a tower above the station 
which they could see from the car door, should tell 
them that it was nearly midnight. Of course they 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. l6l 

had. no idea of going to sleep. That would never 
do ; for they must watch the clock. How slowly its 
hands crept round. Arthur resolutely turned his 
eyes away from it, determined not to look again for 
at least half an hour. When satisfied that that 
length of time had elapsed, he glanced at its round 
yellow face, only to find that barely five minutes had 
passed. He spoke of this to Uncle Phin, but re- 
ceived no answer. The old man was fast asleep. 

“Poor Uncle Phin!” said the boy to himself. 
“ He must be very tired, and I won’t wake him till 
it ’s time to go.” 

So Arthur watched the lighted clock until it 
looked like a moon, and then he rubbed his eyes to 
make sure that it was not winking and laughing at 
him. And then — and then he too was fast asleep, 
with one arm thrown about Rusty’s neck, and the 
only sounds to be heard were the patter of rain on 
the roof of the motionless freight car, and the regu- 
lar breathing of its three tired occupants. 

An hour later two men, carrying lanterns and 
wearing rubber coats that glistened with the wet, 
came along and paused before the freight car. One 
of them consulted a way bill. “ Yes, this is it,” he 

ii 


162 


BORING FOR OIL. 


said. “ No. 201, corn-meal for Harrisburg. Six 
sacks to be left at Arden. That ’s all right. Shut 
her up, Joe. It was mighty careless of those fellows 
to leave the door open.” 

Then Joe pushed the heavy door to, with a slam. 
It fastened with a spring lock, and the men with the 
lanterns walked away to look up the rest of their 
train. A little later an engine came rolling softly 
along the wet track to where the car stood. There 
was a bump, a rattle of coupling pins and links, a 
swinging of lanterns, and the car was drawn away, 
past the multitude of little red, and green, and yellow 
lights twinkling through the rain and darkness like 
big fire-flies, and marking the switches. 

The car was hauled and pushed hither and thither, 
and others were attached to it, until at length a long 
train was made up. The great locomotive panted, 
eager to be off, and its hot breath made little clouds 
of fleecy steam, that were edged with flame by the 
glow from its open-mouthed furnace. The brakemen 
were at their posts on the slippery tops of the cars ; 
the caboose at the rear end of the train looked warm 
and comfortable. The red lights, shining like angry 
eyes, were hung in position on its sides near the rear 


A RAILROAD EXPERIENCE. 1 63 

end, and freight train No. 15 was in readiness for a 
start. 

The conductor came from the Train Despatcher’s 
office with a thin sheet of yellow paper, on which 
were written his orders, in his hand. 

“No tramps on board to-night, are there, Joe ? ” he 
said to his head brakeman. 

“ No, sir, not a sign of one. I ’ve looked carefully 
everywhere. It ’s too wet for ’em to travel, I 
reckon.” 

“ All right. Let her go.” 

Then the conductor swung his glistening lantern, 
the engineer pulled the throttle, and Freight No. 15 
moved slowly out into the darkness. Its first stop 
was at Arden, where it was to side-track and await 
the passing of the New York Limited. Here too 
were to be left six sacks of meal. 

As Brakeman Joe unlocked and pushed open the 
door of car No. 201, and the light of his lantern 
flashed into its dark interior, it fell upon something 
that caused him to start and exclaim : 

“ Great Scott ! the tramps are travelling after all, 
and here they are. A dog too ! Well, if that is n’t 
cold cheek ! ” 


CHAPTER XXL 

CARRIED OFF IN A FREIGHT CAR. 

B RAKEMAN JOE did not love tramps. His 
regular work was hard enough, goodness 
knows ; and when, in addition to it, he had to make 
a thorough examination of the whole train at every 
stopping-place, peering, by the light of his lantern, 
between and underneath the cars for tramps, who 
might be stealing a ride, he felt that he had good 
cause to dislike them. Sometimes he had hard tus- 
sles before dislodging them from their perches and 
roosts, and many an ugly blow had he received while 
performing this duty. Joe had, therefore, learned to 
deal very promptly, not to say roughly, with this 
portion of the travelling public whenever he found 
them on or in the cars under his charge. 

On this particular night he had made sure, before 
starting, that there was not a single tramp on the 

164 


CARRIED OFF IN A FREIGHT CAR. 1 65 

train, and had in consequence been anticipating a 
comparatively easy trip. And now he had, as he 
supposed, discovered a whole nest of them snugly 
stowed away in car No. 201. A dog too ! It was 
aggravating, and, under the circumstances, it is not 
to be wondered at that he hustled them out of there 
without much regard to their feelings. 

Both Arthur and Uncle Phin had been suddenly 
awakened, and greatly alarmed, when Brakeman 
Joe first slammed and locked the door of the car in 
which they had taken refuge from the storm. They 
had a confused idea that they had been asleep, 
though for how long they could not tell, and now 
they could no longer see the lighted clock above the 
railway station. It might even be midnight, and 
time for their train to come along for all they knew. 
They shouted, and kicked against the locked door, 
and Rusty barked ; but all in vain. The conductor 
and Brakeman Joe had walked away before these 
noises began, and there was no one else to hear 
them. 

Then the engine came and pushed and pulled the 
car about until they had not the slightest idea of the 
direction in which they were moving. It might be 


66 


BORING FOR OIL. 


forward or backward, east or west, for all they could 
tell. Nor was their situation improved when the 
train, of which car No. 201 finally formed a part, 
pulled out of the railway yard, and started on its 
long journey. They had no idea which way it was 
going, and Arthur could have cried as he reflected 
that they might be travelling in exactly the opposite 
direction from that they wished to take, and might 
be carried hundreds of miles before their car door 
was again unlocked. As he could not do this, be- 
cause he was a Dale, he only hugged little Rusty, 
and tried to be comforted by Uncle Phin’s assur- 
ances “ Dat de good Lawd was er gwine ter keer 
for dem, jes like He did fer de sparrers, whose 
hairs was all counted so as dey shouldn’ fall to de 
groun.” 

Arthur’s unhappiness was increased by the fact 
that he could nowhere feel his precious book. It 
had slipped from his grasp as he slept, and now was 
nowhere to be found. Thus the first stage of their 
journey by rail was a most unhappy one, and they 
were glad to forget their sorrows in the sleep that 
again overcame them a few minutes before the train 
made its first stop. 


CARRIED OFF IN A FREIGHT CAR. 1 67 

The Arden station was a very small one, in a 
lonely place, with no houses near it. It was only 
a platform with a freight shed at one end, and a 
more forlorn place for a stranger to be left on a dark, 
stormy night, could hardly be imagined. Arthur 
and Uncle Phin were not conscious of the train 
stopping here, and were only awakened from their 
troubled sleep by the light from Brakeman Joe’s 
lantern flashing in their faces. They were just 
sitting up and gazing at him, in a bewildered way, 
when this energetic young man hustled them out of 
the car in his roughest manner. It was so rough, in 
fact, that poor Uncle Phin, impelled by a violent 
push, slipped on the wet platform, and fell heavily. 
He struck one of his knees such a painful blow that, 
for a few moments, he was unable to rise, and lay 
there groaning. 

“ Are n’t you ashamed of yourself to treat an old 
man so ! ” cried Arthur to Brakeman Joe, as with 
flashing eyes and quivering lips he sprang to his 
companion’s side, and endeavored to assist him to 
his feet. 

“ Well, what business has the old tramp got to be 
stealing a ride on my train ? ” replied the brakeman, 


1 68 


BORING FOR OIL. 


sulkily, though at the same time bending over Uncle 
Phin and helping him up. 

He was not a bad-hearted young man, this Brake- 
man Joe ; but he was overworked, and much bothered 
by tramps. Generally he was good-natured, and 
was especially kind and gentle with old people, for 
he had an old father at home of whom he was the 
sole support, and to whom he was devoted. He had 
not noticed, in the dim light, that Uncle Phin was 
old and white-headed. He had only regarded him 
as a tramp, who, as everybody knows, is apt to be 
young and strong, and well able to perform the labor 
that he refuses to undertake out of sheer laziness. 
So now he helped the prostrate figure to its feet, said 
he hoped the old fellow was not much hurt, and then 
returned to his task of dragging the six sacks of 
meal, that were to be left at Arden, from the car. 

“ What ’s the matter here, Joe ? ” asked the con- 
ductor of the train, stepping up at this moment. 

“ Only a couple of stowaways that I found steal- 
ing a ride in this car,” was the answer. 

“ Tramps, eh ? ” said the conductor, sharply, flash- 
ing the light from his lantern upon the two trembling 
figures who stood behind him. “ A dog, too,” he 


CARRIED OFF IN A FREIGHT CAR . 1 69 

continued, “ and I ’ll warrant they stole it. I ’ve a 
mind to take it in payment for their ride. If this 
was a town I ’d have you fellows arrested and locked 
up in less than no time. You, and all your kind, 
ought to be killed off for the good of the country. 
As it is I ’ll leave you here to soak in the rain for 
the rest of the night, and perhaps some of the worth- 
lessness will be washed out of you by morning. 
Hello ! what ’s this ? ” 

Here the conductor stooped and picked up a small 
object over which Brakeman Joe had stumbled, and 
which he had sent flying out on to the platform. 

It was a book, and the conductor picked it up, 
wondering where it could have come from. “ 4 An- 
dersen’s Fairy Tales,’ ” he read aloud, holding it up 
to his lantern. “ The very book my little Kitty was 
asking me to get for her only the other day ! Well, 
if this is n’t a find ! ” Then, turning to the fly-leaf, 
he read aloud : “ To Prince Dusty, from ” 

Here he was interrupted by Arthur, who sprang 
forward, and, stretching out his hand for the book, 
cried : “ Please, sir, it ’s mine ; and I should feel 

dreadfully to lose it, and we are n’t tramps, and 
did n’t mean to steal a ride. We got locked in by 


BORING FOR OIL . 


170 

accident, and we have money enough to pay for 
everything, and oh ! please don’t leave us here in 
this lonely place.” 

The conductor stared at the boy in amazement. 
“ Well, you do look like a ‘ little Dusty ’ sure enough, 
though I can’t say that you are exactly what I should 
have fancied a Prince was. Who are you, anyway ? 
And where do you want to go to ? ” 

Then Arthur, who was completely covered with 
white dust from the meal sacks on which he had been 
sleeping, told the conductor, in as few words as pos- 
sible, of the object of their journey, and how they 
happened to be locked into car No. 201. He finished 
by repeating that they had money, and would wil- 
lingly pay for the privilege of riding further on the 
train, provided it was bound east. This last ques- 
tion was asked most anxiously, for as yet the boy 
had not the slightest idea of where they were. 

u Bound east ! ” exclaimed the conductor. “ Of 
course we are, and there goes the ‘New York Limi- 
ted’ now.” As he spoke, an express train, of heavy 
vestibuled cars, thundered past them, with a roar and 
a crash, at such tremendous speed that in a second it 
was gone, and its two red eyes, looking backward, 


CARRIED OFF IN A FREIGHT CAR. iyi 

seemed to wink mockingly at the snail-like freight 
train, as they were whisked out of sight. 

“ Now,” said the conductor as the roar of the ex- 
press dying away permitted his voice to be again 
heard, “I’ll tell you what I will do. You say you 
are not tramps, and did n’t mean to stow away in 
that car, and that you have money enough to pay for 
your trip. That all may be so, and it may not. At 
any rate I have n’t time to investigate your stoiy 
now, for we must pull out of here at once. So you 
and the old man and the dog just tumble into that 
caboose, and I ’ll carry you along a bit further. We ’ll 
see about paying for the trip when you decide how 
far you want to go, and you shall read a story out of 
your book to Brakeman Joe and me, to pay for the 
ride you have already had. But mind,” he added 
threateningly as Arthur began to thank him, “if I 
find that you have been telling me any lies, I ’ll have 
you arrested and locked up in the very first town we 
come to.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS. 


ONDUCTOR TOBIN, of freight No. 15, was 



one of the biggest-hearted and most generous 
men on the road. In fact it was largely owing to 
this that he had not long ago been promoted from 
a freight to a passenger train. He could not bear the 
thought of taking a place from any of his friends, 
whom he thought needed it more than he did. So 
he always held back, and let them step up over his 
head, and rejoiced with them in their good fortune, 
and said he would take his turn next time. He had a 
wife and one little girl about Arthur’s age, whose 
name was Katherine, but who was called “ Kitty ” 
for short ; and, though the conductor’s pay was small, 
they managed to make both ends meet, and lived 
very happily in Harrisburg, in a little cottage that 
they only rented, but which it was their great desire 


SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS . 1 73 

to own, some day. It was so conveniently situated, 
not far from the railroad, and yet in such a nice part 
of the town that Mrs. Tobin often said to Conductor 
Tobin that they could not find one more to their 
liking, if they should look for a hundred years, and 
Conductor Tobin agreed with her. 

Like Brakeman Joe, the only persons with whom 
Conductor Tobin had no patience, and upon whom 
he was very severe whenever they came in ‘his way, 
were tramps. In the present case he was pleased 
with the sweet, honest face of little “ Prince Dusty,” 
a name that struck his fancy most happily. It seemed 
a proof of the truthfulness of Arthur’s claims, that 
he possessed, and evidently valued, the very book 
for which his little girl had expressed a desire. Thus 
he became favorably inclined toward our travellers, 
and offered to help them on with their journey. 

So it happened that, when freight No. 15 pulled 
slowly and heavily out from the Arden siding, Ar- 
thur and Uncle Phin and Busty, instead of being 
left behind on the storm-beaten platform, were com- 
fortably seated about the little round stove in the 
caboose, enjoying its grateful warmth and very happy 
over their good fortune. 


74 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Soon after starting, Conductor Tobin and Brake- 
man Joe entered the caboose, and sat down for a chat 
with their guests. Uncle Phin was too fully occu- 
jfied in nursing his bruised knee to enter very 
heartily into the conversation ; but Arthur so easily 
sustained his share of it, that the trainmen were 
delighted with his intelligence and ready wit. 
After he had told them all that he could about him- 
self, he began to ask them questions, whereby he 
gained much information concerning railroad busi- 
ness in general, and the running of trains in particular. 
They allowed him to climb up into the cupola of the 
caboose, through the four windows of which he 
could look out into the night, ahead, behind, and on 
both sides. Then they showed him their red and 
white lanterns, and set of flags, and explained their 
uses. He thus learned that, if any accident hap- 
pened to their train, it would be the conductor’s 
first duty to send a brakeman back on the track to 
wave a red lantern, and warn approaching trains of 
the danger ahead. 

“ Would a train always stop if a red lantern was 
waved across the track ahead of it ? ” asked 
Arthur. 


SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS. 1 75 

“ Of course it would, ’ r was the auswer, “ for if it 
did n’t it would get into trouble.” 

Brakemau Joe even went so far as to initiate the 
boy into the mysteries of his own peculiar depart- 
ment. Of course he did not invite him to walk over 
the wet roofs of the moving train, in order to show 
him how the brakes of the freight cars were set up ; 
but he gave him a lesson on the platform of the 
caboose that answered every purpose. 

Then the trainmen brought out their tin lunch 
pails, and from their contents, together with those 
of the paper bag so thoughtfully provided by Aunt 
Charity, the merry party of five, for of course the 
always-hungry Busty was included in it, made a 
hearty midnight supper. 

Freight No. 15 had stopped several time to drop 
or pick up loaded cars ; but, as yet, nothing had 
been said about leaving the guests behind, or about 
Arthur reading a story in payment for the earlier 
portion of their ride. At length, when they were 
toiling slowly up a long, heavy grade, for they were 
now climbing the western slope of the Alleghany 
Mountains, Conductor Tobin claimed the fulfilment 
of this promise, and Arthur willingly undertook to 


176 


BORING FOR OIL . 


read the story of “ The Wild Swans.” Brakeman 
Joe was at his post in the cupola on look-out, so 
of course he could not be expected to listen to the 
reading. Nor could the conductor hear very well, 
above the roar of the train, though the boy strove to 
read loudly and clearly. At length, as it was evi- 
dent that he was straining his voice, and also that 
he was growing very sleepy, kind-hearted Conductor 
Tobin gently took the book from his hands, and 
bade him lie down on a sort of long bench, covered 
with a cushion and a blanket, that ran along one 
side of the caboose, while he finished the story for 
himself. 

Here, with Rusty nestled close beside him, the 
tired boy quickly fell asleep, while Uncle Phin 
nodded and dozed in a big arm-chair beside the 
stove, and the only sounds heard were the panting 
of the locomotive, and the rattle of the heavy train 
as it toiled slowly up the steep grades. 

Somewhere near the summit a stop was made for 
water. During it both Conductor Tobin and Brake- 
man Joe went to the forward end of the long train 
for a chat with the engineer. They were still talking 
when it was time to start ahead, and both men 


SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS. 1 77 

jumped into the cab for a moment that they might 
finish what they were saying. Then they began to 
make their way back toward the caboose, walking as 
quickly and surely over the swaying roofs of the 
cars as though they had been on solid ground. 

It had ceased to rain ; but thick, damp mist 
clouds, were driving over the mountains, and they 
at first thought this was the reason why they did 
not see the green lights, that should show in the 
back of the red caboose lanterns. Then they became 
anxious, and quickened their steps. When they 
reached the end of the train their worst fears were 
realized. The caboose was no longer there. 

The engineer, happening to look back, saw their 
swinging lanterns. A sharp, imperative whistle blast 
called for brakes. For a few moments there was a 
harsh grinding of the iron brake shoes against 
iron wheels, and then the train came to a stand- 
still. As it did so Conductor Tobin ran breathlessly 
up to the locomotive, shouting: “Back down to 
the tank ! Side-track the train, and run your engine 
back after the caboose. It ’s broke loose and gone 
down the grade ! Number 17 is coming up behind 
us ! There is n’t one chance in ten thousand but 


12 


178 


BORING FOR OIL. 


what there ’ll be a collision ! We ’ve got to take 
that one though, and do what we can.” 

Long before he finished speaking Conductor To- 
bin was in the cab, and the train was backing rapidly 
•toward the siding. Brakeman Joe had run back to 
the little green light at its end, unlocked and thrown 
over the lever, so that now a “ flying switch ” was 
made, and, while the train ran in on the siding, the 
locomotive, previously cut loose from it, still stood 
on the main track. Again the lever was thrown 
over, the green light, denoting that the main track 
was open, swung into place, and the engine seemed 
to give a great bound as it plunged swiftly down 
the grade in pursuit of the runaway caboose. 

In the meantime Arthur had been suddenly awak- 
ened from his nap by a peculiar jarring jerk that 
accompanied the starting of the train, and by a loud 
barking from Rusty. For an instant the caboose 
stood still, though he could hear the other cars in 
motion, then it began to move backwards ; at first 
very slowly, but increasing its speed with each mo- 
ment. Although he did not yet realize in the least 
what had happened, the boy felt uneasy, and stepping 
to the door he looked out. Even to his inexperienced 
eye the situation was clear at a glance. 


SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS. 1 79 

A coupling-pin had broken, and the caboose was 
running away down the steep grade the train had 
just climbed. 

“ Quick, Uncle Phin!” he shouted, “come here 
quick ! ” and the old man, hobbling to the door, 
found the boy exerting all of his strength upon the 
iron brake wheel. 

Together they tugged and strained at it until at 
length they got the brake set, after a fashion. Of 
course not as Brakeman Joe’s powerful arms could 
have done it, but so that its iron shoes ground with 
considerable force against the wheels. 

At first it did not seem to have the slightest effect, 
and the car still rushed at a fearful speed down the 
mountain side, whirling around the sharp curves 
with sickening lurches that nearly threw its passen- 
gers off their feet. 

Suddenly a new terror was added to the situation. 
From down in the valley came the shrill whistle of 
an approaching train, and they knew it was climb- 
ing the grade toward them on the same track. Now 
their runaway car struck a short place of comparative 
level, and its speed seemed to slacken. 

If they could only set that brake up one more 
notch ! It seemed impossible ; but they did it, and 


i8o 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the red sparks began to fly from the grinding 
wheels. 

They were certainly going slower, and, at last, on 
the beginning of an abrupt curve, they stopped. 
Another hundred feet would have sent them flying 
down the steepest grade of the mountain. 

Arthur bade Uncle Phin take one of the two red 
lanterns left in the car and swing it from the front 
platform. Then, with the other in his hand, he 
jumped to the track, and ran at the top of his speed 
around the curve ahead of them. He was not a 
second too soon, for within a hundred yards of the 
caboose he was nearly blinded by the sudden glare 
of an approaching headlight. Standing steadily in 
the middle of the track he swung his danger signal 
to and fro, until he could feel the hot breath of the 
approaching monster, and then he sprang aside. 

Its powerful air brakes were already at work, and 
the “ Keystone Express,” filled with sleeping pas- 
sengers, came to a standstill within a few feet of 
the runaway caboose, just as the engine from the 
freight train bumped softly against it from the other 
direction. 

As Conductor Tobin picked Arthur up in his 







STANDING STEADILY IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRACK HE SWUNG HIS 
DANGER SIGNAL TO AND FRO. {Page l8o.) 
















































































ft 













































































































» 















































SAVING THE KEYSTONE EXPRESS. l8l 

arms and carried him back to the caboose the tears 
were streaming down his face, and he said : “ God 

bless you, lad ! Yon Ve done a thing this night the 
oldest trainman on the road might be proud of 
doing.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

CROSSING THE ALLEGHANIES. 

S O little “ Prince Dusty,” by remembering what 
he had been taught, and having the common- 
sense to put it into practice, was able to prevent a 
terrible disaster. Some boys of his age would have 
been so frightened at finding themselves in a run- 
away car, plunging madly down a mountain-side, 
that they would have become panic-stricken and 
utterly powerless to help themselves or others. 
They would have, as people say, lost their heads ; 
but Arthur was not one of the kind who lose their 
heads. He had been sensibly brought up by his 
practical father, and taught to face emergencies 
coolly and calmly. Young as he was, he had 
learned to stop and think “ What is the best thing 
to be done ? ” and then to do it promptly to the very 
best of his ability. It does not take long to think. 

182 


CROSSING THE A LLE GH A N IE S. 1 83 

If the brain is clear and steady, a great many 
thoughts can flash through it in a second ; and one 
moment thus spent is worth a lifetime of thoughtless 
action. 

It would be absurd to claim that Arthur had not 
been frightened on this occasion. He had never 
been so frightened in his life, and it is to be hoped 
that he never will be again ; but he was too brave 
a boy to allow his fright to obtain control of him. 
Now that the time for being cool and calm, and for 
prompt action, had passed, he felt weak and faint, 
and was very glad to be picked up and borne 
tenderly back to the caboose, in Conductor Tobin’s 
strong arms. There Uncle Phin was waiting to 
throw his arms about his “ lil Marse,” and to “ tank 
de good Lawd” for letting him be the brave, 
splendid boy that he was. 

The runaway caboose was hauled up to where the 
rest of its train was waiting on the siding for it, and 
the “ Keystone Express ” followed slowly. Here it 
stopped for a few minutes, while its engineer and 
conductor, and the conductors of the sleeping-cars, 
all crowded into the caboose to see and shake hands 
with the boy who had saved their lives, and to 


BORING FOR OIL. 


184 

thank him with trembling voices. They wanted 
Arthur and Uncle Phin and Rusty to go with them, 
and travel, surrounded by every comfort and luxury 
that their train could afford; but Arthur said he 
would rather stay where he was. This decision 
made Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe very 
happy, for they were so proud of their young 
“railroad man,” as they called him, that they could 
not bear the thought of parting with him. 

So, with many a full-hearted “ Grod bless you ! ” 
and “We ’ll not forget you in a hurry,” the train- 
men of the “ Keystone Express ” went back to their 
places, and it rolled away over the mountains, with- 
out its sleeping passengers being any the wiser for 
what had happened. Nor did they ever know of 
the danger they had escaped ; for passengers on 
railway trains are never told, if it can be helped, of 
their narrow escapes from accidents. It might make 
them timid about riding in the cars. 

Only one passenger knew. He was an elderly 
gentleman, who, unable to sleep, had been lying in 
a lower berth, gazing out into the darkness through 
his uncurtained window. He knew of the sudden 
and unusual stopping of the train, had seen the 
swinging lanterns, and had noticed the engineer and 


CROSSING THE ALLEGHAN1ES. 1 85 

conductors of his own train crowding into the 
caboose of Freight No. 15. When the express was 
once more in motion, he called the porter of the 
sleeping-car, and made him tell all he knew of what, 
had taken place. 

When the story was finished, the elderly gentle- 
man sighed regretfully, and said he wished he had 
known of it in time to go and see that boy for him- 
self. He had no boys of his own, and had never 
cared much for them ; but recent circumstances had 
caused him to change his mind, and long for one. 
He had even come to regard all boys with interest, 
and now wished he might have known the brave 
little fellow whose courage and promptness of action 
had, in all probability, saved his life. 

After the express had passed on, and Freight No. 
15 was again pounding heavily along over the steel 
rails, Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe sat by 
the little caboose stove and talked over the events 
of the past half hour. Arthur lay quietly on the 
blanket-covered bench, with Busty curled up at his 
feet, and Uncle Phin, sitting close beside him, held 
one of his hands, as though fearful of losing him. 

The two men told each other what a wonderful 
thing it was that these stowaways had chosen their 


BORING FOR OIL. 


1 86 

particular train, and how thankful they were that 
they had not left them at Arden, as they at first 
intended. They could not tire of praising the boy 
for remembering what they had just taught him, 
and for being so ready to act upon it. They praised 
Uncle Phin, too, for his share of the night’s work, 
and even little Rusty was petted and praised for 
barking to wake Arthur when the caboose broke 
loose. 

Brakeman Joe said that the boy was so evidently 
cut out for a railroad man that it would be a pity if 
he should ever try to become anything else. He 
even went so far as to offer Arthur and Uncle Phin 
a home with his old father, promising to teach the 
former all he knew of railroading, and to get him a 
place as water-boy on a passenger train. 

Arthur gratefully declined this offer, and said he 
thought they had better keep on with their jour- 
ney to the home in which he belonged. At the same 
time a genuine love for railroads and everything con- 
nected with them, even including their dangers, had 
entered his heart that night, and he determined that 
some day he would not only be a railroad man, but 
a famous one. 


CROSSING THE ALLEGHANIES. 1 87 

They had now passed the summit of the Allegha- 
nies, and day was dawning. As the night mists 
rolled away, and the magnificent panorama of 
mountain, hill, and valley began to unfold beneath 
them, Arthur climbed up into the cupola to watch 
it. He had never witnessed so glorious a sunrise as 
that now flashed back by the clear waters of the 
Juniata, which laughed and rippled beside the track. 
As he drew in long breaths of the fresh mountain air 
and gazed on the marvellous beauty of the ever- 
widening landscape, the mere fact of being alive and 
able to enjoy it all filled him with happiness. 

During the morning Freight No. 15 rumbled 
heavily across the Susquehanna River and into the 
beautiful old city of Harrisburg, the proud capital 
of one of the greatest and wealthiest States of the 
Union. Here it was turned over to a new crew of 
trainmen, while Conductor Tobin, Brakeman Joe, 
and the others who had brought it thus far were at 
liberty to seek their homes and a well-earned rest. 

Conductor Tobin insisted upon taking our travel- 
lers home with him, and, though Brakeman Joe 
would gladly have had them as his guests, he was 
obliged to yield to the claims of his superior officer. 


BORING FOR OIL . 


1 88 

So they all went to the neat little cottage, not far 
from the railroad, where, when warm-hearted Mrs. 
Tobin learned from her husband what Arthur and 
Uncle Phin and Rusty had done, she took the boy at 
once into her arms and heart, and shook hands with 
the old negro, and petted the dog, and said that her 
house was honored by having such distinguished 
guests under its roof. Then she prepared an extra 
fine dinner for the occasion, and even little Rusty was 
allowed to sit at the table and have his share of it, 
u just like folks,” as Mrs. Tobin said. 

After dinner Arthur won Kitty’s heart by reading 
stories to her out of his precious book, and Uncle 
Phin won it by carving toys out of bits of soft pine 
with his jack-knife, and Rusty won it by performing 
all his tricks and playing with her. 

That evening Conductor Tobin produced a rail- 
road folder that contained a map. On this they 
traced out the course of the journey yet to be under- 
taken to the point on the James River not far from 
Richmond, Virginia, where Uncle Phin said Dale- 
court was located. When their route had been care- 
fully marked in red ink the map was entrusted to 
Arthur for their future guidance. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


A BRAVE STRUGGLE WITH POVERTY. 

T HE following day Conductor Tobin introduced 
his guests to a freight conductor on the 
Northern Central road, who, when he had heard 
their story, willingly consented to carry them on his 
train, which was to go out that night, as far as 
Baltimore. 

This he did ; and when they got there, they had 
not spent one cent of the money with which they 
had left Pittsburgh, and yet they had accomplished 
two thirds of their journey. 

As the weather was pleasant, they decided to walk 
from Baltimore, at least as far as Washington. So 
the Northern Central conductor set them down at a 
small station just outside the city limits of Balti- 
more. Then, after pointing out the direction they 
were to take, he bade them good-by, and left them to 

189 


BORING FOR OIL . 


19O 

pursue their journey on foot, with light hearts and a 
firm faith that they would speedily accomplish it. 

From the very outset of this walk Arthur began 
to realize the value of the information given him 
long before, in the tramps’ camp on the Alleghany, 
regarding their peculiar signs, as inscribed on fences 
and gate-posts. While he and Uncle Phin had some 
money, it was so very little for the long journey still 
ahead of them, that they must use every means pos- 
sible to save it. They did not expect to live at first- 
class hotels during their travels, or even in cheap 
lodging-houses. They only hoped to obtain permis- 
sion to sleep in barns, or under haystacks if nothing 
better offered, and to buy their food of such farmers’ 
wives as would let them have what was left over 
from their own tables. 

Therefore it became very important for them to 
know who were the liberal, good-natured people 
along their route, and which were the ones from 
whose doors they would be chased away by dogs, or 
threatened with shot-guns. To discover this Arthur 
kept a sharp look-out for signs by the roadside. 

It was surprising, now that he began to look for 
them, and to discover for himself where to look, how 


A BRAVE STRUGGLE WITH ROVER TV. 191 

many he found. There was hardly a dwelling along 
the way but what had the character of its inmates 
denoted by rude chalk marks on some conspicuous 
object in its immediate vicinity. So by applying 
only at the houses whose signs were favorable, they 
got along very nicely for three days. They were 
allowed to sleep in comfortable barns each night, and 
had several meals given to them without charge, 
though they always offered to pay for what they 
received. Thus, on the fourth day, when they 
expected to reach Washington, they had spent but 
one dollar of their little store. 

As neither of them was used to walking, and as to 
Uncle Phin’s rheumatic stiffness of limb was now 
added a severe pain in the knee that had been injured 
by falling on the platform at Arden, their progress 
was very slow. It was so slow, in fact, that Arthur 
began to despair of ever completing their long 
journey on foot, and to wonder if no other means 
of travel could be found. 

He was so busily thinking over the several plans 
that proposed themselves, on the evening of that 
fourth day, that he hardly paid any attention to the 
great white dome of the Capitol at Washington that, 


192 


BORING FOR OIL. 


looming high above the city, marked the end of this 
stage of their journey. Nor did he pay much atten- 
tion to the black clouds gathering overhead, until 
Uncle Phin, who was hobbling painfully along beside 
him, said : “ We ’se er gwine hab a storm, Honey, an 
I spec hits comin down rambumptious.” As he spoke 
there came a wild gust of wind accompanied by a 
flurry of rain. 

They were on such a lonely stretch of road that 
there was no house in sight, and only a haystack in a 
neighboring field offered the slightest shelter. So 
they hurried to it, and burrowing under its leeward 
side, found there comparative protection from the 
storm, which they hoped would be of short duration. 

But it lasted all night, with the wind shifting and 
blowing from every quarter; so that, after long 
hours of sleepless misery, the gray dawn found them 
soaked to the skin by the pitiless rain, faint with 
hunger, and shivering with cold. 

With the first daylight they tried to move on in 
search of a house; but when poor Uncle Phin 
attempted to rise from his cramped position, he sank 
back with a groan. His injured knee had swollen 
and stiffened during the night, so that every effort 


A BRAVE STRUGGLE WITH POVERTY. 1 93 

to move it now gave him excruciating pain. He was 
entirely helpless ; and the twelve-year-old boy, upon 
whom this new responsibility had so suddenly fallen, 
was, for a few moments, overwhelmed by it. Then 
he rallied bravely, and, saying, “ I am going for 
help, Uncle Phin, but I ’ll be back just as quick as 
I can,” he started on a run across the sodden field, 
toward the road. 

In less than half an hour he returned with a team 
that he had discovered on its way to the city. Its 
driver agreed to take them as far as he went for 
two dollars, which sum Arthur gladly promised 
him. He would have given everything he pos- 
sessed, and even willingly have resigned his pros- 
pects of finding a home, for the sake of getting his 
dear old friend to some shelter in which he could 
have warmth and food. 

With great difficulty they got Uncle Phin into 
the wagon, where he lay with his head in Arthur’s 
lap. Two hours later they were established in an 
humble negro boarding-house, to which the driver 
of the wagon had taken them. Here they could 
have a small but neat and well-warmed room for a 
dollar a week, payable in advance. 


i 9 4 


BORING FOR OIL . 


Procuring a cup of hot tea and some broth for 
Uncle Phin, besides food for himself and Rusty, 
completely exhausted Arthur’s slender stock of 
money. So, when he had got Uncle Phin to bed, and 
seen that he was as comfortable as possible, the 
brave, tired little fellow started out into the strange 
city to try and earn some more. 

That day he made twenty-five cents, by holding a 
horse for several hours, while its rider was attending 
to some business in one of the public buildings. 
Then, for several days, his fortunes fluctuated; on 
one of them he made a whole dollar by running 
errands, holding horses, carrying parcels for ladies 
who were shopping, and by doing, cheerfully and 
faithfully, from morning to night, everything that 
offered, no matter how hard or disagreeable it was. 
On other days he made nothing. 

At length a piece of good fortune befell him. The 
holiday season was drawing near, and the business 
of the retail stores was greatly increased. The pro- 
prietor of one of them, who had noticed this cheerful 
little errand-boy waiting for odd jobs in front of his 
store, finally offered him regular work, for a few 
weeks, at fifty cents a day. For this he was always 


A BRAVE STRUGGLE WITH POVERTY . 1 95 

to be on band to open the doors of carriages, carry 
parcels for shoppers to the horse-cars, and make him- 
self generally useful outside the store. 

In the meantime, poor Uncle Phin, stricken with 
rheumatic fever, lay suffering and groaning in his 
bed through the long, lonely days of several weeks, 
before he was again able to hobble about. 

During these weeks of toil, suffering, and anxiety, 
little Rusty was Arthur’s constant companion and 
sole comforter, and the boy grew to love him better 
than anything on earth, except Uncle Phin. In 
going to and fro from his work each day, he passed 
a certain house, in which lived a gentleman who was 
very fond of dogs. This gentleman noticed Rusty, 
and took such a fancy to him that he several times 
offered to buy him. Arthur steadily refused these 
offers, until at length, when Christmas was past, and 
there was no more work for him at the store. Then 
he went to the gentleman’s house, and trying to 
speak bravely, but with quivering lips and tear- 
filled eyes, told him he might have the dear little 
dog for two tickets to Richmond. 

Uncle Phin was again able to travel, and intensely 
anxious to continue their journey, so as to reach hi? 


196 BORING FOR OIL. 

old home “befo de dawn ob de New Yeah.” Ar- 
thur’s travels had taught him that railroad tickets 
cost money ; but with all his efforts and self-denials, 
he had been unable to save anything from his scanty 
earnings. So, for Uncle Phin’s sake, he finally de- 
cided to sacrifice his dear Rusty, if by so doing he 
could obtain the means of getting to Richmond. 

The gentleman gladly, and without asking any 
questions, accepted this strange offer, and sent a 
servant to procure the required tickets. Then the 
poor little fellow, after giving Rusty a long parting 
hug, ran home, with a heavy heart, and a suspicious 
moisture glistening in his eyes. 

The next day they travelled in the cars to Rich- 
mond, and the mere knowledge that he was once 
more in old Virginia, seemed to infuse new life into 
Uncle Phin. Without a moment’s delay, they started 
to walk the ten miles of rough, frozen road that lay 
between the city and Dalecourt. 

The old man’s strength lasted wonderfully, but it 
gave out when they were still two miles from their 
destination ; and, tottering to the doorway of a 
dilapidated and deserted cabin, that stood on the 
roadside, he declared that he could go no farther, 


A BRAVE STRUGGLE WITH ROVER TV. 1 9 7 

and begged his boy companion to go on without 
him. 

To this Arthur would not listen for a moment ; 
but, helping the old man into the cabin, he declared 
they could rest there very comfortably until morn- 
ing. Then he gathered a quantity of sticks, broken 
branches, and small logs, which he piled in the big 
fireplace that filled one end of the cabin’s single 
room. He had just one match, but it did its duty, 
and soon a cheerful blaze was roaring up the old 
earthen chimney. 

Grateful for its warmth, and for even this poor 
shelter, they prepared to pass, as best they might in 
this lonely place, the last night of the old year. 
There were no doors or windows to the cabin, so 
that everything they did might be plainly seen 
by any chance passers along that wintry road. 

Arthur still had his book of fairy tales ; and, as 
darkness set in, the old man begged him to read 
“ jes one lilly story ” from it, to help them forget 
their wretchedness. So, sitting in the brightest 
glow of the firelight, the boy bent his brave, care- 
worn young face over the pages, and read the 
touching story of u The Little Match-Girl.” 


BORING FOR OIL. 


ig8 

Her situation and tlieirs were so much alike, that 
the story seemed very real to him ; and as he 
started at the sound of a rustle behind him just as 
he closed the book, he looked up, almost expecting 
to see some beautiful vision. Nor was he disap- 
pointed. A dainty, richly-clad figure stood in the 
doorway. As the boy lifted his eyes he uttered a 
cry of mingled fear, amazement, and joy. The face 
into which he was looking was that of the beautiful 
lady who had given him this precious book, and 
who had written in it “ To Prince Dusty, from his 
Fairy Godmother.” 



THE FAIRY GODMOTHER FINDS PRINCE DUSTY. ( Page 198 .) 










CHAPTER XXV. 

FINDING A HOME. 

B EFORE Arthur could recover in the slightest 
from his bewilderment at this wonderful and 
undreamed-of appearance of his beautiful lady in 
such a place, she stepped forward and caught him 
in her arms. “ Oh, my little Prince Dusty ! My 
dear little Prince Dusty ! ” she cried. “ Where have 
you been ? How did you get here ? Do you know 
that I am your cousin ? Your own cousin, Harriet 
Dale, and that I live at Dalecourt ? I never was so 
utterly amazed in my life as I am to find you here ! 
We knew that you had left the Dustins ; but nobody 
could tell where, or how, you had gone. And to 
think that you should have come to Dalecourt ! I 
don’t see how you ever found the way ! It is the 
very most wonderful thing I ever heard of ! How 
did you get here ? But, no matter now. How 

199 


200 


BORING FOR OIL. 


thoughtless I am to stand here asking all these 
questions. You look frozen and starved, poor child, 
and the first thing is to get you home as quickly as 
possible. Who is this with you ? Not Uncle Phin ! 
Surely not the Uncle Phin who used to be so good 
to me when I was a little girl ? ” 

“ Yes, Miss Hatty,” answered the old man, who 
had scrambled stiffly to his feet upon her entrance, 
and now stood with his white head uncovered, 
laughing and crying at the’ same time. u Hit am de 
same ole Unc Phin, an he tank de good Lawd he is 
lib to see a shuah nough Hale once mo. He done 
bring lil Marse home, Miss Hatty. Hits been power- 
ful hard wuk ; but de Lawd done sen He rabens, 
an He fiery chariots, an He pillows ob smoke, an now 
He done sen you Miss Hatty, like a bressed angel, 
fur to delibber us.” 

“ He has indeed been very good to us,” said the 
young lady, gently. “ Now we must get this dear 
child home at once.” 

The carriage in which Miss Hatty was driving 
home from Richmond, when her curiosity was 
attracted by the strange scene in the little old 
cabin, was now brought to the door. Uncle Phin, 


FINDING A HOME. 


201 


feebly protesting that it was all too fine and too 
grand for a “ wuffless ole niggah ” like him, was made 
to take the front seat ; while on the other sat Miss 
Harriet Dale, with ragged, tired, hungry, but in- 
tensely happy Arthur nestled close beside her. 

The perplexing, tumult of his feelings was such 
that, up to this time, he had not spoken a word ; and 
even now he wondered if it were not all a beautiful 
dream, from which he would awake to find himself 
lying on the floor of the cabin. It seemed as though 
his own dear mother must have come back ; that it 
was her loving arm now thrown protectingly about 
him, and he almost feared to speak, lest she might 
disappear, as she always did when he waked from 
dreaming of her. But the beautiful lady was talk- 
ing to him and asking him questions. 

She could not wait until they reached home to 
learn how these two had wandered from the far- 
away place in which she had met her “ Prince 
Dusty,’’ to this one. It was such a wonderful 
journey for them to have undertaken, that her im- 
patience to know something of it could not be re- 
strained. So she asked question after question, that 
Arthur and Uncle Phin answered to the best of 


202 


BORING FOR OIL . 


their ability, until at length she knew enough of 
the principal events of their pilgrimage to make it 
seem marvellous that they should ever have accom- 
plished it. 

Among other things she learned of their experi- 
ence in the runaway caboose of freight train No. 15, 
in the Alleghany Mountains, and this seemed to 
interest her more than all the rest. 

Then she wanted to know if the book from which 
Arthur had been reading to Uncle Phin, and which 
he now carried clasped tightly in both hands, could 
be the same that she had given him so long ago, and 
how he had been able to keep it all this time. 

“ Of course it is,” answered Arthur, “ and of course 
I have kept it. It is the very most precious thing I 
own in the world ; and nothing but beautiful things, 
just like its stories, have happened ever since you 
gave it to me. I had to let Rusty go to get us here ; 
but I would never, never, have let my book go, not 
even if we had been starving.” 

Then Miss Hatty had to be told who Rusty was, 
and what a dear dog he was, and how hard it had 
been to part with him, and how Arthur hoped there 
would be some horses for him to hold at Dalecourt, 


FINDING A HOME. 


203 


or errands to be run, so that he could earn money 
enough to buy him back again. 

It was too dark for them to see anything of the 
Park, once so carefully kept, but now neglected and 
overgrown, through which they drove for half a mile 
after turning in at the Dalecourt gateway ; but 
Arthur felt a thrill of happiness when his cousin 
told him where they were. It seemed incredible 
that his long, weary journey, with all its hunger and 
cold and suffering, was past, and that he was really 
at the home he had so longed to reach. How beauti- 
ful it was to be welcomed so warmly and lovingly, 
when he had sometimes feared they might not even 
receive him at all. 

At length the carriage stopped before a great 
rambling house, that had been very stately and 
handsome in bygone years ; but which was now so 
dilapidated and shabby as to be but a forlorn relic 
of its former glory. However, it still contained 
much of comfort and good cheer ; and, as the great 
front door was flung open, the warm glow of a huge 
log fire sprang out upon the cold darkness, and 
drove it back. It seemed to Arthur as though the 
very house offered him a welcome of light and 
warmth, and he loved it from that moment. 


204 


BORING FOR OIL . 


From the open doorway stepped an elderly gentle- 
man, with iron-gray hair and mustache, and an erect 
military bearing, who called out : 

“Welcome home, Niece Harriet! We’ve had 
lonely holidays without you ; and right glad am I 
to have you back again.” 

“ No more so than I am to be here, uncle ! ” ex- 
claimed Miss Hatty, springing lightly from the car- 
riage and heartily kissing the elderly gentleman, 
who was Colonel Arthur Dale, of Dalecourt, and 
Arthur’s grandfather. “And, uncle, I ’ve brought 
home a friend of yours, whom I picked up on the 
road. He is the very boy you were speaking of so 
recently, who saved your train, in the Alleghanies, 
from a collision.” 

“Eh ! what ’s that ?” cried Colonel Dale. “You 
have found that boy ? How in the name of good- 
ness — But bring him in ! Bring him in where we 
can have a look at him. It ’s too cold to stand out 
here any longer.” 

So the young lady followed her uncle into the 
glowing hall, leading Arthur by the hand, while 
Uncle Phin hobbled after them. The boy’s mind 
was filled with a whirl of conflicting emotions, as he 


FINDING A HOME . 


205 


stepped, for the first time, across the threshold of 
his mother’s home, and gazed on the form of his 
nearest living relative. Had he tried to speak at 
that moment his feelings would have choked him ; 
but he gave no outward sign of his mental con- 
dition, except by clasping more firmly the kind hand 
that led him forward. 

When fairly within the circle of ruddy firelight, 
that filled the oak-panelled interior with its cheery 
glow, Colonel Dale turned for a look at the stranger 
whom his niece had so curiously discovered and 
brought home with her. As his glance fell on the 
ragged little figure at her side, the words that were 
upon his lips died away, a sudden pallor overspread 
his countenance, and he gazed in silence. 

What did he see in that sweet face, now so thin 
and careworn ? In its brave blue eyes ? In the fair 
head of clustering ringlets ? What was it that, for a 
moment, rendered him speechless and powerless to 
do aught save stare ? It seemed to him that he saw 
a spirit. 

“ Who is he, Harriet ? ” he almost gasped, at 
length. “ Where did you find him ? He is the liv- 
ing image of my dead daughter ? ” 


20 6 


BORING FOR OIL . 


“ He is that dead daughter’s child, uncle. He is 
your own grandson Arthur, and my little ‘ Prince 
Dusty,’ ” was the answer. 

The next instant the boy was clasped in a loving, 
forgiving, all-atoning embrace, and had found a place 
in his grandfather’s heart, that he would never re- 
sign so long as life lasted. 


CHAPTER XXVT. 

COLONEL DALE OF DALECOURT. 

I T is hardly possible to describe the joy that 
reigned in Dalecourt on that last night of the 
year. Colonel Dale and Miss Hatty, and Mrs. Allen 
Dale, her mother, all asked Arthur questions at 
once; and petted, and fed, and pitied, and praised 
him, until the poor, tired, happy little fellow, worn 
out with excitement, could no longer keep his eyes 
open, and was carried off to bed. Xor would it be 
possible to convey any idea of what a hero dear old 
Uncle Plain became in the eyes of the dusky assem- 
bly, who thronged the kitchen, to see him eat his 
much needed supper, and to hear of his maiwellous 
adventures while bringing the “ lil Marse ” to his 
own home. All these things can be imagined a 
great deal better than they can be described. At 
the same time it does seem to be necessary to tell 


207 


208 


BORING FOR OIL. 


something about the Dales and Dalecourt, and how 
Colonel Dale’s niece, Miss Harriet, happened to be 
the same beautiful lady who presented Arthur with 
an illustrated copy of Andersen’s “ Fairy Tales,” in 
the oil region of Pennsylvania, some months before 
that happy New Year’s Eve. 

She was the only daughter of Colonel Dale’s 
youngest brother Allen, and was therefore own 
cousin to Arthur’s mother. At the death of her 
father, who left them penniless, she and her mother 
went to Dalecourt to live, and to beep house for 
her lonely uncle. 

One of the very dearest of Miss Hatty’s school 
friends lived in the oil region of Pennsylvania, and 
during the previous summer she paid this friend a 
visit. It was at the conclusion of this visit, and 
while driving from her friend’s house to the distant 
railway station, that she encountered Arthur and 
little Cynthia, just as their search for adventures 
had led them into trouble. 

With her first glance at the boy’s face she was 
struck by a certain familiar expression in it, and 
when he told her his name she wondered if he might 
not be her little cousin whom she had never seen. 


COLONEL DALE OF DALECOURT. 20g 

She was not quite sure of the Dustin part of his 
name, as it was never allowed to be mentioned at 
Dalecourt, so she decided to wait until she could 
make further inquiries before claiming the relation- 
ship. 

As she had barely time to reach the railway station 
and catch her train, she was not able to pursue these 
inquiries just then. She, however, bade the coach- 
man find out what he could about the Dustins, and 
also wrote to her friend for what information she could 
obtain concerning the child, in whom she had become 
so greatly interested. From her mother she learned 
that Dustin was the name of the young Northerner 
whom her cousin Virginia had married ; and when 
she received an answer to her letter, it assured her 
that she had discovered, in that far-away region, her 
uncle’s only grandson. 

Now came what she feared would prove the most 
difficult part of her task. Colonel Dale had forbid- 
den the name of Dustin to be mentioned in his house, 
nor had Miss Hatty ever heard him speak as though 
aware that he had a grandson living. She at first 
tried to approach the subject cautiously, but finding 

that she was liable to be misunderstood, she at length 
14 


210 


BORING FOR OIL. 


told her uncle frankly all that she knew and suspected. 
To her great surprise he listened to her willingly and 
with an eager interest. 

Colonel Arthur Dale had been a very selfish man, 
though he called his selfishness “ family pride.” He 
had also been a very self-willed one, though this he 
would have said indicated strength of character. 

Of late years, however, both of these faults had 
been dealt heavy blows. The losing of his beautiful 
daughter Virginia was the first blow. Then his wife 
died, and then the war came. It left him a poor 
man, with a large but unproductive estate on his 
hands, and no opportunity, that he could discover, 
for going into business and retrieving his shattered 
fortunes. 

Instead of hardening his nature, these trials soft- 
ened it. His pride was broken. He no longer 
thought of himself alone. His stubbornness disap- 
peared and he longed for human love and sympathy. 
His once princely estate was now so encumbered by 
mortgages that they promised soon completely to 
overwhelm it. It spite of its owner’s efforts to keep 
the place in order, it showed evidences of decay and 
ruin in every direction. Many of the old family 


COLONEL DALE OF DALECOURT. 


21 1 


servants still clung to Dalecourt, and the Colonel 
was too kind-hearted to turn them away. Thus 
there was always a large number of mouths to feed, 
and each year brought less to feed them with. 

Of late the lonely man had thought much of his 
dead daughter, and wondered if her son, the grand- 
son whose existence he had never openly acknowl- 
edged, was still alive, and what sort of a boy he was. 
Thus, when his niece began to speak to him on this 
very subject, he proved an eager listener to all that 
she had to say. 

“He is one of the very dearest, sweetest, and 
bravest little fellows I ever saw,” she cried impul- 
sively. “ When I met him he was making believe to 
be a prince, and was defending a child, younger than 
himself, from what he thought was the savage attack 
of a big dog. He was so covered with dust when I 
picked him up out of the road, that I called him 
‘ Prince Dusty,’ and the title of ‘ Prince ’ seems 
somehow exactly to suit him. Although he was 
ragged and barefooted, he was every inch a little 
gentleman, and the last I saw of him he was lifting 
his tattered straw hat to me, as I drove away.” 

The result of this conversation, and of several 


212 


BORING FOR OIL. 


similar ones that followed it, was that, toward the 
end of October, Colonel Dale set out for the oil 
region of Pennsylvania, determined to bring his dead 
daughter’s child home with him, and thereafter to 
treat him as his own son. 

He had, by this time, so set his heart upon having 
the boy to love and to care for, and had centred so 
many plans for the future about him, that to learn, 
from the Dustins, of Arthur’s absolute and mysterious 
disappearance, was a grievous disappointment, for 
which he was not prepared. He could not believe 
that the boy was not still in that vicinity, and insisted 
that a search should be made for him throughout all 
the surrounding country, though the runaways had 
been gone for nearly a month. 

Colonel Dale read and re-read the rudely pencilled 
note that Arthur had left for Cynthia, and asked to 
be allowed to keep it : but the child would not give 
it up. It was her most treasured possession, and 
though he bribed her with money, and candy, and 
toys, she could not be induced to part with it. 

Brace Barlow, the only person who knew how 
and in what direction Arthur and Uncle Phin had 
gone, was in a distant part of the oil region, so that 


COLONEL DALE OF DALE COVET. 


213 


he heard nothing of Colonel Dale’s arrival, nor of the 
eager search for the little fellow who used to call him 
u dear giant.” 

Arthur’s grandfather even visited the farm that 
had belonged to his unacknowledged son-in-law, 
Richard Dustin, with the faint hope that his grand- 
son might have sought shelter there. 

Finally, after obtaining John Dustin’s promise to 
telegraph the first bit of information that he should 
gain concerning the missing boy, and also to relin- 
quish all claims upon him in favor of the grand- 
father, the disappointed man turned his face home- 
ward. He was not only disappointed at the 
unexpected result of his journey ; but he was as 
heavy-hearted as though death had robbed him of 
some loved one, and he were now on his way to bear 
the sad tidings to those who waited at home. 

It was such thoughts as these that drove sleep 
from his eyes, while the Keystone express, on which 
he was a passenger, climbed the western slope of the 
Alleghanies, and barely escaped destruction from the [ 
runaway caboose of a freight train, through the 
prompt action of a boy. If the sleepless man could 
only have known that this boy was his own grand- 


214 


BORING FOR OIL. 


son, how quickly would his sorrow' have been changed 
jto joy and pride. As it was, he was filled with 
admiration for the brave lad, merely from listening 
to the sleeping-car porter’s imperfect account of the 
affair, and wished he might have seen and known 
him. 

When he reached home he related this incident to 
his niece and her mother as the most thrilling of his 
trip, and again regretted that he had not made the 
acquaintance of its hero. 

Now, the fact that his grandson and this young 
hero were one and the same boy, and that this boy 
had voluntarily sought a home under his roof, was a 
continual source of joy and pride to Colonel Dale, 
that he was at no pains to conceal. 

Becomingly dressed, well cared for, and, above all, 
surrounded by an atmosphere of love and gentle- 
ness, “ Prince Dusty” was now such a handsome, 
merry little fellow, that he not only completely won 
the hearts of his grandfather and the Dalecourt 
household, but of every one who came in contact 
with him. 

Now, more bitterly than ever, did Colonel Dale 
regret his lost fortune, and shrink from the ruin 


COLONEL DALE OF DALE COVET . 21 5 

that, staring him in the face, could not much longer 
be averted. The financial difficulties of the family 
had not been kept from Arthur, for he was wise be- 
yond his years, and his grandfather thought it best 
that he should know exactly how matters stood with 
them. It was a great grief to the boy to see his 
grandpapa and his Cousin Hatty, both of whom he 
had learned to love dearly, so troubled ; and, in his 
wise young way, he pondered deeply over the 
situation. 

At last, one evening as he was bidding them all 
good-night, he said : “ Grandpapa, I think I have 
almost thought of a way for us to get a great deal of 
money.” 

“ Have you, my boy ? ” said the colonel. “ That ’s 
good ; what is it ? ” 

“ Well I have n’t quite thought it all out yet ; but 
I will finish thinking and tell you what it is in the 
morning,” replied the boy, smiling brightly down 
upon his grandfather, as he bounded up the broad 
stairway. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

A “ (GENUINE CHUMP.” 

I T seemed so absurd that a twelve-year-old boy 
should be considering plans for raising the 
large sum of money necessary to help Colonel Dale 
out of his difficulties, that, after Arthur had gone to 
bed, those who were left downstairs found consid- 
erable amusement in wondering what his scheme 
could be. 

His grandfather said it would probably be a prop- 
osition to form an errand-boy trust ; while Mrs. 
Dale thought it would only prove to be some 
absurd idea concerning railroad life, that the boy 
had picked up during his recent travels. Miss Har- 
riet, however, said that her “ Prince Dusty ” was 
wiser than they imagined, and she did not believe 
he ever spoke seriously, upon any subject, without 
knowing pretty well what he was saying. So, by 
216 


A “ GENUINE CHUMP” 2iy 

talking the matter over, they became greatly in- 
terested, and quite curious to hear what Arthur 
would have to say the next morning. 

When they began to question him at breakfast 
time he gravely answered that he had heard his 
papa say that the breakfast-table was not the proper 
place to discuss business affairs. The seriousness 
with which this speech was uttered, caused a gen- 
eral smile, and as Colonel Dale had been heard 
to make the very same remark, no objections could 
be raised against it. 

After breakfast the little fellow invited his grand- 
father to accompany him into the library, where he 
proceeded to unfold his plan. It was nothing more 
nor less than that they should go back to Pennsyl- 
vania, and sink a well, for oil, on the farm that his 
father had left him. 

For a moment Colonel Dale looked at the boy to 
see if he were in earnest, and then burst into a hearty 
laugh. “ Why, Arthur ! ” he said at length, “ what- 
ever put such an idea into your head ? I don’t 
know the first thing about oil wells, and I am afraid 
that, wise as you are, you don’t know much more 
than I do.” 


218 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ That ’s just it, sir ! ” replied the boy, eagerly. 
“ And it is because both of us are ‘ chumps ’ that 
we ’ll be certain to strike oil. Brace Barlow always 
said so. You see, a ‘ chump ’ is somebody who 
does n’t know any more about oil, or where to find 
it, than we do. What Brace Barlow says is, that 
while those who know all about the business often 
strike ‘ dusters,’ a ‘ genuine chump ’ always has luck 
with his first well. Now, you are a 4 genuine chump,’ 
you know. I ’m afraid I am not quite genuine, 
because Brace Barlow has told me so much about 
the business, and because I helped him shoot a well. 
But, I think you must be genuine enough for both 
of us. It ’s a perfectly splendid way to make money, 
unless you strike a 1 duster,’ but only ‘ sharps ’ do 
that.” 

“ What do you mean by ‘ dusters ’ and ‘ sharps ’ ? 
They sound exceedingly like slang words,” said 
Colonel Dale, smiling. 

\ “ Oh, no, indeed they are not ! ” cried Arthur. 

“ Brace Barlow uses them, and so does Uncle John. 
A ‘ duster’ is a dry well — one that does n’t have 
any oil, you know ; and a 1 sharp ’ is one who under- 
stands all about the oil business. He is just the 


A “ GENUINE CHUMP." 


219 


most different kind of a man from a 1 chump/ and is 
nearly always too wise to make money.” 

“ But, my boy, your farm is not even in the oil re- 
gion ; so what makes you fancy that we could strike 
oil by sinking a well on it ? ” asked Colonel Dale. 

“ Because I know two secrets about it,” answered 
the boy, mysteriously. “ One day when papa and I 
were walking in the back wood-lot, we smelled gas, 
and by and by we found a tiny place in the rocks 
where it came out. Papa lighted it, and it burned 
beautifully. Then he put it out, and told me always 
to remember that place, but not to say anything 
about it to anybody until the proper time came. 
After that papa studied a great deal about oil, and 
he found out that our farm was on the forty-five 
degree line, and said he was quite sure that oil 
would some day be found on it. 

“ So, while he did n’t tell anybody but me about 
it, he made Uncle John promise never to sell the 
farm. I have thought several times, when I needed 
money, that I would go back to my farm and get 
some oil to sell ; but then it has always come some 
other way, so I have n’t had to touch it. Then I 
thought I would save it, until I was ready to be a 


220 


BORING FOR OIL . 


railroad man, and wanted to build a railroad of my 
own. Now I have decided that I would rather you 
should have it than to do anything else in the world 
with it, and then you can make Dalecourt beautiful 
again, and we can always live here and be happy.” 

Although at the time Colonel Dale made light of 
his little grandson’s plans for acquiring wealth, this 
curious conversation set him to thinking, and to 
looking up all the information concerning oil that 
he could obtain. The more he considered the 
scheme, the more favorably he was impressed with 
it, and the more inclined he was to attempt it. 

Mrs. Allen Dale thought it was all nonsense ; but 
Miss Harriet was delighted with it, and begged her 
uncle to undertake it. “ Just think ! ” she exclaimed, 
“ how fine it would be, if our little ‘ Prince Dusty ’ 
should turn out to be a little oil Prince. Would n’t 
it be splendid ? ” 

At length, when the winter had passed, and the 
Virginia forests were putting on their delicate spring 
robes of leaves and blossoms, Colonel Dale decided 
to make the venture, and to sink a “ wild-cat ” well 
on the Pennsylvania farm belonging to his grandson, 
with the hope of finding oil. 


A “GENUINE CHUMPA 


22 


It was a curious thing for a staid and elderly Vir- 
ginia planter to undertake ; and, but for the desperate 
state of his fortunes, it is doubtful if he would have 
considered the plan for a moment. As it was, he 
mortgaged Dalecourt for the very last cent that 
could possibly be raised on it, and, with the few 
thousand dollars thus obtained, started for Pennsyl- 
vania. 

Arthur and Miss Harriet accompanied him; the 
former, as a matter of course, because, as he said, he 
was to be his grandpapa’s partner in this new busi- 
ness. The latter went to keep house for them while 
the well was being sunk, and to continue Arthur’s 
education, which she had undertaken when he first 
came to Dalecourt. Mrs. Dale was to remain in 
charge of the beautiful old place, which might so 
soon pass into the hands of strangers, and Uncle 
Phin was also left behind to fill the responsible 
position of head gardener. 

On the morning that the little party set forth on 
the journey that, to them, promised as much of 
glorious success or disastrous failure as did ever an 
ancient voyage of discovery or exploration, Arthur 
was enthusiastic over their undertaking, and confi- 


222 


BORING FOR OIL. 


dent of its complete success. Miss Harriet was 
smiling and hopeful. Colonel Dale was serious, and 
his face wore an air of quiet determination ; while 
Mrs. Allen Dale was tearful and doubtful. She 
bade them good-bye as though she never expected 
to see them again ; and, when they were gone, she 
gazed as sadly about her, as though the last hope of 
Dalecourt had departed with them. 

The journey was a rapid and pleasant one, occupy- 
ing but two days and one night, which was in striking 
contrast to the three months spent by Arthur and 
Uncle Phin in traversing the same distance. 

Arthur did not manifest much interest in Wash- 
ington, as they passed through it. He had suffered 
too much there to care to renew his associations with 
the place. He only looked eagerly from the car 
window at all the dogs that were to be seen, with 
the faint hope that one of them might be his dear 
Busty. 

At Harrisburg he tried to point out to his com- 
panions Conductor Tobin’s cottage ; and, from there 
to Pittsburgh, he felt almost certain that every 
freight train they passed must be No. 15, and that 
on each he recognized Brakeman Joe. He was 


A “ GENUINE CHUMP.' 


223 


greatly disappointed that they did not have time to 
go and see Aunt Charity ; for he gratefully remem- 
bered all those who had been kind to him in the 
time of his need, and would gladly have renewed 
their acquaintance. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


A FEW FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM. 

S they approached the oil region, and began to 



see the tall derricks, looking like windmill 
towers, crowning the hilltops, their conversation 
naturally turned upon the subject of oil and its 
production. Arthur related stories from Brace Bar- 
low’s experience; while Colonel Dale, who, from 
weeks of reading, was now as well informed on 
on all matters pertaining to oil as one can be from 
books alone, gave them bits of information concern- 
ing its early use and history. 

One of Arthur’s stories described the fearfully 
narrow escape his “ dear giant ” once had from a run- 
away team. He was driving along a lonely road 
that ran in the bottom of a narrow valley, and had 
sixty quarts of nitro-glycerine snugly stowed under 
the seat of his buggy. Suddenly he saw a runaway 


A FE W FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM. 225 

team attached to a heavy lumber wagon, dashing at a 
mad gallop down the road, directly toward him. There 
was barely time to turn his own horses into the ditch 
at one side, and thus leave a narrow space through 
which the runaways might have passed in safety, if 
they had so chosen. 

Instead of doing this, they too headed for the 
ditch, and plunged into it, just in front of the glycer- 
ine buggy. There they fell over each other, broke 
the pole, upset their wagon, and became so entangled 
in the wreck that they were incapable of further 
mischief. All this took place within ten feet of 
where Brace Barlow sat, on top of his load of nitro- 
glycerine, as steadily as though he did not expect, 
with each instant, to be blown into a million frag- 
ments, and hurled into eternity. 

Then Colonel Dale explained what torpedoes are, 
and why they are used ; and Miss Hatty said she 
hoped their well would have to be shot, so that she 
might witness the operation. Seeing that his com- 
panions were interested in the subject, the Colonel 
continued to talk of it. He said : 

“ Although we, naturally, know and hear more 

about the oil fields of Pennsylvania than any other, 
15 


226 


BORING FOR OIL. 


petroleum is also found in a dozen or more of our 
own States and territories, as well as in many other 
countries of the world. In Pennsylvania it exists in 
a narrow territory, lying about fifty miles west of 
the Alleghany Mountains ; and, as the oil-bearing 
belt extends in a general northeast and southwest 
direction, it is spoken of as lying on a forty-five- 
degree line.” 

“Just as our farm does,” said Arthur. 

“Exactly,” said his grandfather, “and I only hope 
it may not lie over one of the many barren places 
that exist on that line.” 

“ In this part of the country,” he continued, “ the 
drilling of wells and the handling of oil have been 
reduced to a state of perfection and simplicity un- 
known elsewhere. Consequently, Pennsylvania well 
drillers, with their tools, are in demand in many 
foreign oil fields, and may be found, commanding 
large salaries, in Russia, Japan, China, New Zealand, 
Canada, the various countries of Western South 
America, in several of the West Indian islands, and 
elsewhere. 

“ In China immense oil fields exist, in which wells, 
dialled centuries ago, are still in use. Natural gas 


A FEW FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM. 22 7 

has also been used in that country for hundreds, and 
perhaps thousands, of years. It is conveyed from 
the wells through bamboo pipes tipped with rude 
clay burners. 

“ Petroleum has also been known and used in 
Burmah for an unknown length of time, both for 
light and fuel. Into a shallow oil well of that 
country an iron bucket is lowered by means of a 
rope, passing over a wooden cylinder. When the 
bucket is full, two men take hold of the other end 
of the rope, and, by running down an inclined plane 
as long as the well is deep, draw it to the surface.” 

“What a stupid way,” said Miss Hatty. 

“ Havana, Cuba,” continued Colonel Dale, “ was 
originally named ‘ Carine,’ for it was the place where 
the early voyagers to the new world careened their 
vessels and made their seams water-tight with the 
natural pitch, or solidified petroleum, that oozed in 
abundance from the rocks near the shores of the 
harbor. Oil springs are very numerous in Cuba, as 
they are in many others of the West Indian islands.” 

“Would n’t it be good if we could find a flowing 
oil spring on our farm?” said Arthur, his eyes 
glistening at the prospect. 


228 


BORING FOR OIL , . 


“ It would certainly be very pleasant,” replied bis 
grandfather. “ And, speaking of flowing springs, the 
most wonderful flow of petroleum ever seen in any 
country, occurred in 1862 in the town of Enniskillen, 
in the western part of the Canadian Province of On- 
tario, along the borders of a stream called Black Creek. 
At that time there was so little demand for oil that 
it was only bringing ten cents a barrel, though three 
years later it was worth ten dollars a barrel in gold. 

“ The first well in that region was drilled early in 
the year; and, at the depth of only one hundred 
feet, it entered an immense reservoir of petroleum. 
Although oil was of so little value at that time, the 
reckless settlers of the country seemed possessed of 
a rage for drilling wells, apparently merely for the 
pleasure of seeing it flow from them. Some of these 
rudely drilled wells spouted forth thousands of bar- 
rels of oil in a day, and one of them is computed to 
have flowed at the rate of 10,000 barrels in twenty- 
four hours. All these fountains and rivers of oil 
were allowed to run absolutely to waste. The 
waters of Black Creek were covered by it to a depth 
of six inches, and it formed a film over the entire 
surface of Lake Erie. 


A FEJV FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM. 229 

“At length this vast quantity of oil was set on 
fire by some mischievous person, who wished to see 
what the effect would be. For days Black Creek 
was a torrent of raging flames, that leaped and 
roared with inconceivable fury and grandeur. It 
was such a sight as the world never had seen, and 
probably never will see again ; while the Canadians 
were so thoroughly satisfied with their experiment 
that they have had no desire to repeat it since. 

“It is estimated that, during the spring and sum- 
mer of 1862, no less than five millions of barrels of 
oil ran to waste down the channel of Black Creek. 
Three years later that amount of oil would have 
been worth, in the United States, a hundred million 
of dollars.” 

“ My ! ” exclaimed Arthur, drawing a long breath. 
“I don’t believe I should know what to do with so 
much money as that.” 

“I am afraid you would n’t, dear,” laughed Miss 
Hatty. “ I know that I for one would not dare as- 
sume the responsibility of taking care of, and spend- 
ing, such an enormous sum. Why, the man who 
has one hundredth part of that, or one million, has 
more money than many princes, and is wealthy be- 


230 


BORING FOR OIL . 


yond the average conception ; while he who has but 
a thousandth part of it, or one hundred thousand 
dollars, is still a rich man.” 

Although Arthur hardly comprehended these fig- 
ures, they interested him, and he now asked : “ How 
many barrels of oil will we have to get out of our 
well, grandpapa, to give us as much money as we 
need ? ” 

“ That is rather a hard question to answer,” laugh- 
ed Colonel Dale; “for, as a general thing, the more 
money people have, the more they think they need. 
However, always supposing that it is not a ‘duster/ 
as you have taught me to call a dry hole, if our well 
yields twenty-five barrels a day I shall be pleased. If 
it should yield fifty barrels I should be perfectly satis- 
fied ; while with a daily yield of one hundred barrels, I 
should be amazed and delighted. In that case you 
might well be called a ‘little oil Prince’; for, with 
oil at three dollars per barrel, your income would 
be at the rate of a hundred thousand dollars a 
year.” 

“But suppose it should yield more than a hun- 
dred barrels a day?” persisted Arthur. “How 
would you feel then?” 


A FEW FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM. 23 1 

“I am sure I do not know,” laughed his grand- 
father, “for I cannot conceive of such a thing as 
happening. I expect I should feel something as Mr. 
Kier of Pittsburgh did in 1860, when the oil that he 
had been getting at the rate of two or three barrels 
a day from his salt wells, and selling as a medicine 
for fifty cents a half pint, was suddenly produced in 
such quantities that the price fell to about ten cents 
per barrel. So, if our well should flow too freely, I 
should be afraid that its product would become a 
drug on the market.” 

“Just what Mr. Kier’s had been, but ceased to 
be,” laughed Miss Hatty. 

“ What ? ” asked Arthur, innocently. 

“ Why, a drug on the market. Did n’t uncle say 
that it was formerly sold as a medicine ? ” 

“ Oh, yes,” said Arthur, soberly, “ I see.” 

Just then Miss Hatty, who was very fond of figs, 
invested ten cents in a small box of “fig tablets,” 
as the train-boy called them. She and Arthur at 
once began to eat them with evident relish, but 
Colonel Dale refused the proffered box. 

“ What do you suppose you are eating ? ” he asked, 
smiling. 


232 


BORING FOR OIL . 


“.Why, figs of course,” answered Miss Hatty. 

“ Ho you call that a fig leaf ? ” asked her uncle, 
pointing to one, cut from green paper, that lay on 
top of the box. 

“No, certainly not. That is only an imitation 
leaf,” was the answer. 

“ Well, it is just as much a real leaf as those are 
real figs.” 

“ Why, grandpapa, they have seeds in them ! ” 
exclaimed Arthur, as though that was proof posi- 
tive that they must be real figs. 

“ To be sure they have,” laughed Colonel Dale. 
“The imitation would not be a good one if the 
seeds were left out. In spite of their seeds, those 
figs are made of petroleum ; or rather of paraffine, 
which is one of the important products of petro- 
leum. Not long ago I came across a list of over two 
hundred articles of commerce that are manufactured 
directly from this wonderful oil. Among them were 
these very ‘ fig tablets.’ Other things made from 
paraffine are chewing-gum, jujube paste, gum-drops, 
some jellies and jams, icing for cakes, etc. The list 
also contained the names of all our most brilliant 
dyes, which are produced from the very lowest 


A FEW FACTS CONCERNING PETROLEUM . 233 

residuum of petroleum tar, and several drugs, among 
which was a powerful anaesthetic.” 

“ Well,” said Miss Hatty, “I am glad I am not so 
wise as some people. It is very foolish to know too 
much ; for it takes half the pleasure out of life. 
Now I am sure I don’t care to eat any more of these 
kerosene figs, even if they have got seeds in them ; 
and yet a minute ago I thought them quite good.” 

“ Seems to me,” said practical little Arthur, “ that 
it is more foolish not to eat a thing that tastes good, 
if it won’t do you any harm, no matter what it is 
made of, than it is to be wise.” 

“ And it seems to me,” said Colonel Dale, “that 
we had better be collecting our things and preparing 
to leave the train ; for here is the station at which 
we are to get off.” 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

LOCATING AN OIL WELL. 

I T was a comfortable, low-roofed, stone farm-house, 
at which the stage deposited our travellers, 
after a pleasant drive from the railway station. To 
Arthur it seemed very much like a home, so filled 
was it with memories of his dear father. As Colonel 
Dale had notified the neighbor, who had it in charge, 
of their coming, everything was in readiness for 
them. The house had been aired and swept, its 
plain but serviceable furniture dusted and cleaned, 
lights were burning in all the lower rooms, and sup- 
per was nearly ready. 

Miss Hatty, who had never been there before, was 
charmed with the place, and hoped that if they 
lost Dalecourt they could make their home here 
in “ Prince Dusty’s” castle. 

They did not tell anybody why they came into 


234 


LOCATING AN OIL WELL. 


235 


that out-of-the-way part of the world, and many 
were the discussions throughout the scattered neigh- 
borhood as to the object of their visit. At length 
old Deacon Thackby thought he had discovered 
the secret and he announced the fact, with a wise 
look on his shrewd face, as he and several others 
stood on the church steps after a Friday evening 
meeting. 

“ I figgered out yesterday,” he said, “ why them 
Dales come here and settled down like they was 
going to stay.” 

“ I thought maybe from the way I see him peering 
round that p’raps he was perspecting fer ile,” piped 
a thin voice at the Deacon’s elbow. 

“ Ile ! ” snorted the Deacon, contemptuously. 
“ You ’ve got ile on the brain, brother Moss. Ef thar 
was any ile raound here would n’t some of us that 
was borned and brung up in the place have diskiv- 
ered it long ago ? Do you suppose a stranger, who I 
reckin never seed a drap of crude in his life, is a 
comin to tell us what we never knowed about our 
own kentry, nor what our fathers never knowed, nor 
what nobody never will know ? 

“Well ” said the thin voice. 


236 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“Well !” interrupted the Deacon. “ There ’s no 
use talking. It may be ile that has brung ’em here ; 
but it ’s paint ile, an not petroleum. That young 
woman is one of them artiss’s that you hear so much 
about nowadays, an she ’s here to do some paintin. 
The boy wanted to come naturally ’cause it was his 
home, an the old Cunnel he come to look after ’em. 
That ’s all thar is about it.” 

“What makes you think the young lady is an 
artist, Deacon ? ” asked another of the group. 

“ I don’t think, I know,” replied Deacon Thackby, 
decidedly, “ an how I know is ’cause I seen her at it, 
and ’cause she ’s cranky and pernicketly like they 
all is. Why, last Wednesday she come down to my 
old red mill an did a drawring of it, an called it a 
beautiful color subjec, an said she was comin down 
agin yesterday afternoon to do it in iles. Well, you 
know how drefful shabby-looking the old place 
was, all kinder cluttered up, an the paint wore 
off in patches, an them vines hiding the best half 
of it. 

“ It seemed too bad to have her wastin her time 
on sich as it was, an I did n’t want folks to look at 
her picter, when it was done, an say how shitless I 


LOCATING AN OIL WELL . 


237 


was nohow. So I got the boys out by the break 
o’ day, an we put id some good solid work on that mill 
agin the time she got thar. We tore down all them 
pesky vines an burned them up, an cut away the 
bushes so as to make a good airy clearin all raound. 
Then we turned to an giv the hull outside a fust- 
class coat of whitewash, from ruff to suller, an made 
it look fine. 

“We had n’t more ’n finished when she come along 
with all her fixins, ready to do it up in iles; but 
when I went out to show her what we ’d done she 
did n’t seem a mite grateful. She jest looked dis- 
appointed an miserable an said ‘ Oh, Deacon, how 
could ye ? ’ 

“Then she went off, like she felt real bad, an 
awhile arterwards I see her settin on the big rock 
in my hill pasture, wastin all her paints on one of 
them common pink an white apple-trees, such as 
you might see most any day bout this time o’ year. 
Oh, yes, she ’s a artiss, an cranky like they all is.” 

In the meantime Colonel Dale was quietly, but 
actively, making preparations to sink a well, in 
search of the wealth of oil that he hoped lay hidden 
beneath the Dustin farm. On the very first morn- 


238 


BORING FOR OIL. 


ing after they reached there he and Miss Hatty and 
} Arthur visited the place in the back wood-lot where 
Mr. Dustin and his son had discovered the tiny gas 
jet issuing from the rocks. Arthur readily found it 
again, and again the application of a lighted match 
gave proof that it was genuine gas and would 
burn. 

Then the Colonel said he would leave the loca- 
tion of the well to his little partner, and asked him 
to point out the place where he wished the derrick 
to stand. 

The boy walked hesitatingly around the gas jet 
for a minute, and then, returning to where the others 
stood, said : 

“ Don’t you think, grandpapa, that Cousin Hatty 
’d better be the one to say where it shall stand ? 
You see I know so much about oil, and you have got 
so wise lately, that I am afraid we are not quite such 
‘ chumps ’ as we ought to be ; but Cousin Hatty is a 
real genuine, and does n’t know anything at all. 
About oil, I mean ! ” he added quickly, blushing 
furiously. “ Of course she knows everything else, 
and that ’s what makes her the very best kind of a 
‘ chump.’ ” 


LOCATING AN OIL WELL. 239 

u Something like — 

“ * The pork-pie man’s beautiful daughter 
Who rarely knew what she had orter ; 

And in quenching a fire, 

Once sought to rise higher, 

Using ile, instead of cold water,*” 

laughed Miss Hatty. “ However, I will consent to 
act as the ‘ chump ’ of this party for the sake of the 
common good, and I decide that the well shall be 
sunk on this very spot.” Here the young lady 
thrust a bit of stick into the ground where she was 
standing. It was about a hundred feet from the 
little gas jet, on the side nearest the house, and Miss 
Hatty afterwards acknowledged that she selected it 
because it was visible from her window, and she 
wanted to be able to see the derrick when it was 
built. 

The spot where that bit of stick stood in the 
ground instantly acquired a new interest. It almost 
seemed as though they could see the tall derrick 
that was to rise there, and hear the steady thud of 
the drill as it cut its way down through earth and 
rock to the oil-bed. The very air seemed to be filled 
with the odor of petroleum ; but perhaps it was only 


240 


BORING FOR OIL . 


a whiff of the gas driven towards them by a puff of 
wind. At any rate, they felt that a beginning had 
been made now that the site of the well was decided 
upon, and were more than ever anxious to have the 
work go speedily forward. 

Soon afterwards Colonel Dale visited the old oil 
region, some twenty miles away, in which Mr. John 
Dustin lived, to purchase the necessary supplies for 
his well, and to engage experienced men to come and 
drill it. It was while he was thus absent that Deacon 
Thackby persuaded the neighborhood that the 
Dales w’ere only there because Miss Hatty was an 
“ artiss.” 

The neighborhood was indeed astonished when 
it discovered one day that several loads of lum- 
ber had been hauled from the railway station to 
the Dustin farm, and that a “ rig-builder ” was at 
work with his men erecting a derrick in the back 
wood-lot. 

“ What in the name of common-sense ! ” ejaculated 
Deacon Thackby, when he first heard of what was 
going on. 

“ Did n’t I tell ye I thought they was perspecting 
round fer ile ? ” piped brother Moss’ thin voice. 


LOCATING AN OIL WELL. 


241 


“ But thar ain’t no ile within twenty mile of 
here ” cried Deacon Thackby. “ The man must be 
a born natural to come wild-catting down here, and 
I ’m jest a going to tell him so.” 

And the Deacon did tell Colonel Dale how fool- 
ishly he was, wasting his money, and how perfectly 
useless it was to drill for oil in that part of the 
country, where, if there was any, it would have been 
discovered long ago. 

“ Has anybody tried sinking a well in this vicini- 
ty ? ” asked Colonel Dale. 

“Yes, thar was Sile Pettis put one down ’bout a 
year ago ; but it did n’t mount to nothing. Thar 
warn’t no ile into it.” 

“ How deep did he sink it ? ” inquired the Colonel, 
with interest. 

“Well, not more than four hundred foot or so,” 
admitted the Deacon, reluctantly. 

“ And the ‘ third sand,’ which is the only one in 
this region that pays — or at least so I am told,” 
remarked the Colonel, “ is hardly ever struck at a 
less depth than one thousand feet. Is Mr. Sile 
Pettis’ unproductive well the only thing that makes 
you think there is no oil about here, Deacon ? ” 

16 


242 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ Thar ain’t no surface indications, like thar should 
be if the ile was right down under us.” 

“ That is something we must provide for at once,” 
laughed Arthur’s grandfather. “ I realize that we 
must have them, Deacon, and just as soon as I get this 
well down a thousand feet I will try and show you 
some of the finest surface indications in the country.” 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE DALE-DUSTIX MYSTERY. 



LTHOUCtH Colonel Dale talked thus bravely 


and cheerfully, he could not drive away a 
heavy, sinking feeling from his heart, nor prevent 
the furrows in his face from growing deeper and 
deeper, as he thought of how much depended upon 
the result of this experiment that everybody about 
him said was such a foolish waste of both time 
and money. 

Still the work was pushed steadily forward. The 
graceful derrick was run rapidly up to a height of 
sixty feet, and a strong iron pulley wheel was 
suspended from its crown. On the derrick floor, at 
one side, the great bull wheels, about the shaft of 
which the drill rope was to be wound, were 
placed in position. On the opposite side was set the 
solid samson post that was to support the equally 


243 


244 


BORING FOR OIL. 


solid walking beam. The former was a section of 
the squared trunk of an oak tree, let deep into the 
ground; while the walking beam was a long and 
very strong oaken timber, nicely balanced so that it 
would work readily up and down. To the end of 
the walking beam, that reached into the middle of 
the derrick, were to be attached the heavy drills ; 
while the other end was connected with the ten- 
horse-power engine that stood in a rough shed but a 
short distance from the derrick. 

Still beyond this, in the open air, was a rusty 
boiler, with a pipe discharging into its open furnace 
door. This pipe led. from a small tank that was 
filled by the jet of natural gas, discovered by Arthur 
and his father ; and natural gas was to be the only fuel 
used in drilling and operating the Dale-Dustin well. 

At length, after a month of hard work and vexa- 
tious delays, the “ rig-builders ” finished their labors, 
and the well drillers came in their place. To 
Arthur’s great joy, they were headed by his “ dear 
giant,” Brace Barlow, who, having heard that his 
little friend was interested in a new" oil well, applied 
for and obtained the contract for drilling it. “ And 
Arthur, lad,” he said, after the first warmth of their 


THE DALE-DUSTIN MYSTERY . 245 

greeting was over, “ if this well proves a ‘ duster,’ it 
won’t be because it is n’t drilled fair enough, or deep 
enough. I ’ll keep the temper screw turning, and 
the drill going, till we strike something to stop it, 
if it ’s only an order to quit, or the bottom of the 
appropriation.” 

Brace Barlow brought with him a delightful sur- 
prise for Arthur in the person of his Cousin Cyn- 
thia, who, upon Miss Hatty’s invitation, came to 
make a visit at Dustin farm. The two children 
enjoyed each other so thoroughly that it was a 
pleasure to see them together. Arthur had so 
much to tell and Cynthia so much to hear concern- 
ing his wonderful journey to Dalecourt, and they 
had so many plans to make for the future, that the 
days were not half long enough for them. In the 
evenings, when the day’s work was done, Arthur 
generally sat with Brace Barlow, listening to his 
tales of adventure in the oil region, or relating inci- 
dents of the recent journey, in which Brace was fully 
as much interested as Cynthia. 

Thus the boy discovered how the mysterious five- 
dollar bill came to be in his precious book, and Brace 
learned of what service it had been to them. 


246 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Day after day the powerful drills worked steadily 
downward through hard and soft rock, sometimes 
descending only six or eight feet in twenty-four 
hours, but generally cutting through twenty or 
thirty feet of material in a day. The first and second 
sandstones or “ sands” were passed, and at length 
the drill was down a thousand feet. At this depth 
it had not yet reached the third, or oil-bearing, sand- 
stone. Occasional puffs of gas came up through the 
casing of iron pipe that was driven down as fast as 
a hole was cut to receive it ; but there was no sign 
of oil. 

The work had now been prosecuted for two 
months, and with the passage of time, and the rapid 
melting away of the few remaining dollars of his 
fortune, Colonel Dale’s face grew more furrowed and 
careworn, and, though he still tried to maintain a 
brave front, it was evident that anxiety was telling 
heavily upon him. 

As the opening of a new district has a very de- 
cided effect on the oil market, all brokers who deal 
in oil or oil stocks are, of course, anxious to secure 
the earliest information concerning the prospects of 
the first well sunk in it. If this proves to be a dry- 


THE DALE-DUSTIN MYSTERY. 247 

hole, and the district is accordingly believed to be 
barren, the price of oil remains firm, with a tendency 
to go up. If, on the other hand, the new well 
happens to be a “ gusher,’ 7 the price of oil immedi- 
ately drops. In either case those who receive the 
earliest reliable information are able to make their 
purchases or sales of oil accordingly and reap large 
profits. 

In order to obtain this information some of the 
leading brokers and oil companies employ a class of 
men called “ scouts,” whose duty it is to find out all 
about new wells, especially those drilled in districts 
hitherto unworked, and to report upon their prog- 
ress and prospects. These scouts are always bright 
young fellows, thoroughly posted in all details of 
the oil business ; and it is almost impossible to keep 
the condition of any well a secret from them, even 
though the owners undertake to do so. 

Now Colonel Dale had determined to reap, for 
Arthur’s sake, whatever benefits were to be gained 
from an early knowledge of the prospects of the 
Dale-Dustin well. For this purpose he had engaged 
the services of a broker in Oil City, whom he had 
undertaken to furnish with the very earliest inf or- 


248 


BORING FOR OIL. 


mation regarding it. As the drill neared the depth 
at which it was expected to enter the oil-bearing 
rock, a number of scouts began to appear on the 
scene of operations and to visit the well every day. 
On the approach of the critical hour that was to 
decide the fate of the experiment, these visitors 
were politely but firmly requested to keep off the 
premises, while the derricks and tanks were boarded 
up, so that they might not be able to witness the 
inside operations from a distance. The drillers 
were bound to secrecy regarding the progress of 
their work, and a guard was stationed about the 
well, with orders not to allow any stranger to ap- 
proach the derrick. Thus the Dale-Dustin well 
became a “ mystery,” and the scouts were put to 
their wits’ end to discover its condition. 

They formed a camp among the thick hemlocks, 
back of the Dustin farm, and at the nearest point 
to the well they could reach. Here one or more of 
their number remained on watch night and day, 
with fleet horses beside them, ready to bear them to 
the nearest telegraph station with the first bit of 
information they should obtain. From this camp a 
powerful field glass was always directed toward the 


THE DALE-DUSTIN MYSTERY. 249 

new derrick, the strokes of the walking-beam were 
counted, and every movement of those who came 
out of, or went into, the boarded structure was 
closely watched. 

During the darkness of night the scouts crept 
closer, and, with many a narrow escape from the 
guards, who constantly patrolled the premises, 
watched and listened for any chance bit of news 
that might thus be gleaned. 

At last their patience and perseverance were re- 
warded, and they gained the very information for 
which they had striven so long. A scout, who had 
lain concealed in a clump of low bushes beside the 
derrick, during the long hours of a dark, stormy 
night, overheard a remark not intended for his ears. 
It furnished a key to the situation ; and, slipping 
away, still unobserved, to where his horse was 
fastened, he galloped rapidly off in the direction of 
the village. 

In the several oil exchanges of the country, the 
principal item of news the next morning was that 
the Dale-Dustin mystery well had proved a dry 
hole ; and many were the jokes made concerning 
the Dustin “ duster.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 


A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 


HE Dale-Dustin well was a dry hole. It con- 



JL tamed a little gas and plenty of salt water ; 
but not a drop of oil flowed from it, though, as Brace 
Barlow said, the material through w^hich the drill 
had finally pierced, at a depth of twelve hundred 
feet, was as likely looking oil sand as one would 
wish to see. The boss driller was greatly puzzled to 
account for the present state of affairs, though he was 
not inclined to talk much about it. He had so often 
and so confidently predicted that this well was not 
only going to strike oil, but to prove a “gusher,” 
that he now had nothing to say. 

He spent the greater part of the morning in wan- 
dering moodily about the place, occasionally entering 
the derrick, and casting reproachful glances at the 
idle drills, as though they were in some way respon- 


A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 25 I 

sible for having opened such a useless hole in the 
ground. Then he would pick up a handful of sand, 
from a little pile on the derrick floor, where the 
sand-pump, that brought it from the very bottom of 
the well, had deposited it. He would smell of this 
sand, and taste it, and rub it slowly between his 
fingers. Then, with a perplexed shake of his head, 
the “ dear giant ” would throw it away, and again 
set forth on his melancholy wanderings about the 
place. He had discharged and paid off his men that 
morning ; so now he was left entirely alone with his 
thoughts. At length, about noon, he disappeared, 
and nobody knew what had become of him. 

The night before, his tour of duty, or “ tower,” as 
the oil men say, began at midnight, when he took 
charge of the drilling, with one assistant. They 
found that the tools had entered the third sand, in 
which it had been expected to strike oil, and were 
rapidly cutting their way through it. The layer of 
sandstone at this point was unusually thick, and it 
was not until nearly daylight that the drill pene- 
trated beyond it. 

With each drop of the tools, the anxious watchers 
at the surface expected a rush of oil ; and each time 


252 BORING FOR OIL. 

the sand-pump was let down, its return was eagerly 
awaited, and its contents were carefully examined. 
There were, to be sure, traces of oil; but that 
was all. 

All night long, Colonel Dale sat in the derrick, 
hardly speaking or moving, except when he stepped 
forward to study the contents of the sand-pump. It 
was a night of nights to him. His fortunes, and 
those of the dear ones dependent upon him, were to 
be decided by the result of those few hours’ labor. 

A derrick lamp cast an uncertain light over the 
scene, and threw long wavering shadows across the 
floor. Brace Barlow worked the temper screw, and 
turned the drill after each stroke, so as to insure its 
cutting a perfectly round hole. His assistant labored 
at the little, glowing forge in one corner. Here he 
heated the extra drills, and, on the anvil beside him, 
beat their blunted points into sharp, cutting edges 
with a heavy hammer. 

There was a steady clangor of noise within the 
boarded structure ; while outside the wind howled 
dismally. Conversation would have been difficult ; 
and, under the circumstances, there was nothing that 
any of the three men cared to say. Colonel Dale’s 


A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 253 

face grew whiter and whiter, as the slow hours 
passed, and the monotonous working of the tools pro- 
duced no result. His eyes were fixed upon the great 
drill rope, as it moved steadily up and down, but he 
did not see it. He saw his dearly loved grandson, 
and his niece, thrown on the charity of the world. 
He saw Dalecourt, his once beautiful home, and the 
home of his fathers, passing from him, and occupied 
by strangers. He saw himself ruined and helpless, 
pointed at by men as an old fool, who had persisted 
in squandering his money on a reckless adventure 
that everybody told him would only result in failure. 

He hardly knew when the monotonous throb of the 
machinery ceased ; but, in the stillness that followed, 
he heard the tones of Brace Barlow’s voice, something 
like those of a judgment. Standing respectfully and 
pityingly before him, the young man said : 

“ I hate to tell you, Colonel ; but it ’s no use drill- 
ing any further. We ’ve gone clean through the sand 
without a show. I don’t understand it, but it ’s so all 
the same, and it would be foolish to spend any more 
money on such a ‘ duster ’ as this hole has proved.” 

“Ver y well, Mr. Barlow,” replied Colonel Dale, 
speaking calmly and without a trace of emotion, 


254 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ pay off the men and discharge them. I am going 
to the house for a nap. Please see that I am not 
disturbed or awakened.” Then the stricken man, 
with the merciless hand of ruin clutching at his 
throat, walked slowly away from the scene of his 
high hopes and bitter disappointment. 

In the stillness that followed the stopping of the 
machinery, Brace Barlow’s words had been plainly 
heard by the oil scout, who crouched, wet, cold, and 
well-nigh exhausted, in his hiding-place close beside 
the derrick. It was what he had waited for ; and, an 
hour later, the news of the failure of the Dale-Dustin 
wild-cat well was flashing far and wide over the wires. 

Soon afterward all the world knew of it — that is, 
all the oil world or the world that cared to know of 
such things. The greater part of this world rejoiced 
at the news. It was not exactly envy or jealousy 
that caused their rejoicing, but perhaps it was a mix- 
ture of the two. At any rate it was that unkind 
feeling that prompts so many of us to secretly dis- 
like the person whom we are congratulating on a 
success, and, again, to secretly rejoice over his mis- 
fortunes, while outwardly sympathizing with him. 
A few, a very few people were really grieved by the 


A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 2 55 

news and were sincerely sorry for the old man and 
the boy whose hopes were dashed by it. 

Deacon Thackby was sorry, but at the same time 
he found great satisfaction in saying : “ You remem- 
ber I told you how it would be, an I give the Cunnel 
a fair warnin.” 

Brace Barlow was sorry ; sorry from the very 
bottom of his great, honest heart ; but as he could 
find no words to express his sorrow he went away 
without having said that he was. 

The scouts were sorry ; not that it made any great 
difference to them, only it would have been so much 
more fun if the well had proved a “ gusher ” instead 
of a “ duster.” Still, as they philosophically re- 
marked, it would all be the same in the long run. 
So, after visiting the now lonely and deserted well 
to assure themselves that the report concerning it 
was true, they packed their hand-bags and departed 
in search of new “ mysteries.” Only one of their 
number remained behind, and he was the one who, 
having crouched beside the derrick all night long, 
was so worn out that he slept through the greater 
part of the following day. When he awoke his 
companions had departed, and as the last train of 


256 


BORING FOR OIL. 


that day had also gone he was forced to remain 
where he was until the next morning. 

To a very small, almost unuoticed portion of the 
world, the news that the well was a “ duster ” caused 
not only unfeigned sorrow, but genuine consternation. 
Miss Hatty had always been hopeful of its success, 
while Arthur had never for a moment doubted it. 
He had such absolute faith that the oil was there 
and would be found that, with Cynthia’s help, he 
had made plans for years to come, all based upon 
the striking of oil in the Dale-Dustin well, and the 
income to be derived from it. He had not only 
planned the restoration of Dalecourt and laid out 
his own career as a railroad man, but he had given 
to all of his friends, and especially to those who had 
been kind to him and Uncle Phin on their journey, 
everything that they most desired. 

To Cynthia this had all seemed so real that for 
several days she had been in a state of mental be- 
wilderment, trying to decide upon what she did most 
desire. To have this responsibility lifted from her 
mind by the refusal of the oil well to provide even 
the smallest income with which Arthur’s plans 
might be carried out, was really a great relief to the 


A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT. 257 

little girl. Still she could and did sympathize with 
Arthur’s distress, and tried, in her childish way, to 
comfort him by telling him not to mind, that it 
did n’t matter very much any how, and that there 
were lots of good times left. 

But Arthur did mind, though it was more for his 
grandfather’s sake than for his own. Brace Barlow 
had awakened him at daylight by throwing pebbles 
against his window, to tell him the sad news, and ask 
him to warn his cousins that Colonel Dale had just gone 
to bed utterly exhausted, and must not be disturbed. 

Arthur told Miss Hatty and Cynthia, and, after 
they had eaten a sorrowful breakfast, they sat and 
talked* of their grief in whispers and low, awed 
tones, as though somebody had died. 

Miss Hatty, who realized more fully than any- 
body else her uncle’s position, and what utter ruin 
this blow meant for him, was more distressed even 
than Arthur, and he almost forgot his own sorrow 
in his efforts to comfort her. 

“ Don’t cry, Cousin Hatty,” he pleaded, as he 

gently smoothed her hair, and wondered in his 

boyish fashion what good crying could do in such 

a case as this. “ It is n’t so bad after all, when you 
17 


258 


BORING FOR OIL. 


come to think of it,” he continued. “ Really it 
is n’t. Even if we can’t go back to Dalecourt, 
we have got this place, and it ’s a great deal better 
than some places, you know, and your mamma and 
Uncle Phin can come here to live with us, and I can 
do lots of things to earn money, and we can be just 
as happy as anything. I ought to be the one to 
work for the rest anyhow, because it must have been 
my knowing so much about oil wells that spoiled 
this one. I never did feel like a real truly chump, 
but I thought perhaps you and grandpapa could 
make up. I am afraid though the trouble was that 
it was more my well than anybody else’s, and so you 
being chumps did n’t do any good.” 

“ You are a dear, blessed little comforter ! ” cried 
Miss Hatty, throwing her arms about her “ Prince 
Dusty ” and giving him a great hug. She even 
smiled through her tears, whereupon the boy de- 
clared that he could almost see a tiny rainbow at 
the ends of her eye-lashes. 

Then the children went out, but it was only to 
walk soberly up to the now silent derrick where it 
was so lonely, and seemed so queer, that they did 
not care to stay long. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 


SHOOTING A “ DUSTER.” 



HE long, solemn day wore itself slowly away, 


A and the weight of a great calamity was so 
heavy upon it that everybody was glad when night 
came and it was time to go to bed. 

Although Colonel Dale had not been seen, he had 
been heard pacing heavily up and down his room 
for hours at a time. Miss Hatty had carried some 
dinner up-stairs, and begged that he would eat it. 
Without opening his door, he said : “ Leave me alone 
to-day, Harriet, and to-morrow I will again try to 
face the world.” She thereupon left the tray close 
beside the door, and told him that it was there. 
He did not again answer her, nor had the tempting 
dishes been touched at nightfall. 

Arthur fell asleep wondering where Brace Barlow 
had gone, and why his “ dear giant ” should have 


26 o 


BORING FOR OIL. 


left without bidding him good-bye. Perhaps it is 
for this reason that he sprang from his bed so very 
wide awake when a tiny pebble rattled against his 
window, just as it had done the morning before, 
when Brace roused him to hear the sorrowful 
news of the well. It was earlier this time than it 
had been then, for the daylight was so faint that 
Arthur could just make out that it was his “ dear 
giant ” who again stood beneath his window, look- 
ing up and beckoning to him. 

“Dress yourself and come down as quickly and 
softly as you can.” said the young man, in a loud 
whisper. 

The boy obeyed, wondering what on earth Brace 
could want with him at that time of day. In less 
than five minutes he was down stairs, and standing 
outside, in the damp chill of the early morning. 

Brace was waiting for him. Without a word, he 
led the boy up the hill back of the house, and into 
the derrick of the Dale-Dustin well. Not until then 
did he speak. Now he said : 

“I have called you out, Arthur, lad, because I 
have got a job on hand that I can’t very well do 
alone, and because I wanted your permission to 


SHOOTING A “DUSTER.” 26 1 

undertake it. You own Half of this well, don’t 
you ? ” 

“ Why, yes,” answered the boy, in surprise ; “ I 
suppose I do. Grandpapa and I are partners, you 
know.” 

“Well, then, as one of the owners, I want your 
permission to try a shot in it.” 

“ In this well ? ” cried Arthur ; “ why, I thought 
you only shot old wells that had stopped flowing.” 

“ So we do, generally,” replied Brace. “ But, if a 
shot will help an old well that won’t flow, why 
should n’t it help a new one that won’t ? I ’ve made 
up my mind that there is oil down in that hole. 
The sand says there is, and I never knew it to lie. 
Now, if that is so, it only needs to be stirred up a 
bit ; and a good big shot will fetch it, if anything 
can. I ’ve been up to the magazine, where I had a 
little of the stuff left, and have brought down a 
hundred and twenty quarts. There it is, over 
yonder.” 

Arthur gave a little start, as, in the dusky corner 
of the derrick thus pointed out, he now for the first 
time saw the well -remembered square tins, in which 
the terrible explosive rested so quietly. 


262 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ I Ve brought the shells, too,” continued Brace. 
“ Now, I only want you to say ‘ go ahead,’ and then 
help me put into the Dale-Dustin a bigger shot than 
I have ever used before. It can’t do any harm, and 
it may do a great deal of good. What do you say ? 
Shall we try it ? ” 

“ Of course we will ! ” cried Arthur, greatly ex- 
cited. “ And, oh, Brace ! if the oil only would 
come, should n’t we be happy ? ” 

“Well, I rather guess we would,” replied the tor- 
pedo man, heartily, as he began making his prepara- 
tions for the great shot. 

Everything had been made ready, on a liberal 
scale, for the expected oil that had thus far failed 
to appear. Two tanks, each capable of holding a 
thousand barrels, stood empty and waiting. The 
casing head was in position, and the heavy iron 
“ oil-saver ” lay near the well, waiting to be used. 
Colonel Dale never did anything by halves, and he 
had been thoroughly prepared for every emergency, 
except the striking of a dry hole. This he had 
feared and dreaded, but had not really expected. 

In less than an hour, the experienced well-shooter 
and his fearless young assistant had filled the bright 


SHOOTING A “DUSTER." 263 

tin tubes with one hundred and twenty quarts of 
nitro-glycerine, and they now hung in the well, 
ready to be sent to the bottom as one huge torpedo, 
eighty feet long. Arthur stood by, without a tremor, 
as, with steady hands, Brace Barlow emptied can 
after can of the awful liquid, and was so quick to 
lend a helping hand whenever he could be of assist- 
ance, that he seemed to know what was wanted be- 
fore the other could utter a request. 

So eager and anxious were they, that they hardly 
spoke while engaged in their dangerous task. 

At length the great torpedo was lowered, slowly 
and carefully, to the very bottom of the well, and 
its line was reeled in. The empty cans had been 
carried to a safe distance, and Brace now stood be- 
side the boy, on the derrick floor, holding the go- 
devil in his hand. He looked at Arthur, and the 
latter understood the look. 

“ Yes, Brace,” he said, “I want to drop it.” With 
the utmost coolness and steadiness of nerve, 4 Prince 
Dusty’ held the iron- winged messenger of destruction 
over the mouth of the well for an instant, and then 
sped it on its downward flight, toward the monster 
waiting a thousand feet below, to receive it. 


264 BORING FOR OIL. 

Hand in hand the man and the boy fled from the 
place, out from among the trees, and down the hill-side. 

Then came a mighty trembling, like that of an 
earthquake shock, followed by the terrible smothered 
roar, and a few seconds of silence and suspense. 

“ There it comes ! ” shouted Arthur, almost beside 
himself with excitement, as a liquid column rose 
slowly from the mouth of the well to a height 
of twenty feet or so, and then fell back. 

“ No, that ’s only the water,” answered Brace 
Barlow, gazing with strained eyes and an intense 
eagerness, such as he had never before known. 

Suddenly a black column of mud, water, and 
burned glycerine rushed to the top of the derrick. 
Its blackness was tinged with the yellow of oil, and 
Brace had opened his mouth to utter a shout of joy ; 
when, with a mighty roar like that of thunder, a 
dense volume of gas burst forth. For a few mo- 
ments it enveloped the derrick in an impenetrable, 
bluish, cloud. As this cleared away there stood re- 
vealed a solid golden column, six inches in diameter, 
reaching to the top of the derrick, and breaking 
into great jets and fountains of amber-colored spray 
against the crown pulley. 



WITH A MIGHTY ROAR LIKE THAT OF THUNDER, A DENSE VOLUME OB 

GAS BURST FORTH. {Page 264 .) 







SHOOTING A “DUSTER.” 


265 


The awful force with which that mighty column 
of oil rushed upward is beyond conception. Nor 
can its beauty, as it glowed and throbbed in the red 
light of the rising sun, be appreciated, save by those 
who have witnessed similar spectacles. 

Miss Hatty, who had sprung from her bed terri- 
fied and bewildered by the noise and jar of the shot, 
saw it as she kneeled by her chamber window, and 
breathed a fervent prayer of thankfulness. 

Colonel Dale, who had rushed into the open air 
under the impression that some terrible convulsion 
of nature was at hand, saw it ; and, strong man that 
he was, he trembled like one stricken with a palsy, 
while great tears streamed down his haggard and 
deeply furrowed face. 

Brace Barlow and Arthur saw it, and the clear 
morning air rang with their shouts of joy. 

“ There ’s no dust in that blessed hole this time ! ” 
cried Brace. “ She ’s a ‘ gusher ’ if there ever was 
one, and her like has n’t been seen for many a day.” 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

SAVED BY THE SIGN OF THE TRAMP. 

I T rarely happens, in real life, that people are 
lifted from the profonndest depths of grief, 
poverty, and misfortune, to such heights of joy and 
promised prosperity, as was the case with those 
whose fortunes depended on the success or failure 
of the Dale-Dustin oil well, on the memorable morn- 
ing of Brace Barlow’s great shot. For many weeks 
they had been weighed down by anxiety, and filled 
with mingled hopes and fears. For hours they had 
been prostrated by what seemed utter and unavoid- 
able ruin. The night had been passed in hopeless 
sorrow, but in an instant it was swept away. The 
rising sun, shining full on that gleaming column of 
oil, hurling its mighty torrent from the mysterious 
recesses where it had lain hidden for untold ages, 
filled their hearts with its gladness and unspeakable 
266 


SAVED BY THE SIGN OF THE TRAMP. 2 6 j 

glory. For some minutes they could only gaze upon 
the scene that it disclosed with incredulous wonder 
and amazement. 

To Colonel Dale and his niece, who had never be- 
fore witnessed the shooting of an oil well, the sight 
was a miracle, and they were at a loss to account 
for it.. 

To Arthur and Brace Barlow, who had not dared 
hope for such wonderful results from their torpedo, 
that golden fountain of oil was at the moment the 
most beautiful and desirable thing on earth. 

At length, withdrawing his fascinated gaze from 
it, Arthur saw his grandfather standing bareheaded 
bewildered, and motionless, near the open door of 
the frame house. Running to him the excited boy 
flung himself into his arms, crying : 

“ Oh, grandpapa, we ’ve shot the ‘ duster ’ and 
turned it into the most beautiful ‘ gusher ’ that ever 
was seen ! Is n’t it perfectly splendid ! And we 
are the very most genuine kind of i chumps,’ after 
all, are n’t we ? And I never was so happy in all 
my life ! Were you, grandpapa ? ” 

“ No, my boy, I don’t believe I ever was,” answered 
Colonel Dale, in a voice almost choked with emotion, 


268 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ unless it was when you came to me to be the joy 
and pride of my old age.” 

Then Miss Hatty, who had hastily dressed herself, 
came running down-stairs ; and she cried and laughed 
at the same time, as she threw her arms about the 
boy and called him her young “ oil Prince,” and 
declared that he was the dearest, and wisest, and 
most lovable oil Prince in all the world. 

Beside them stood shy little Cynthia, gazing at 
the marvel with wide open eyes, half-frightened and 
not knowing what to say, but thrilled with the great 
happiness and excitement of those about her. 

In the meantime hundreds of barrels of the precious 
oil were pouring down the hillside and going to 
waste, in a yellow stream that fretted and sparkled 
and tumbled in miniature cascades over the rocks like 
a runaway mountain brook. Several men from the 
neighboring farms, attracted by the noise of the 
explosion and the hoarse roar of the escaping oil 
and gas, now came hurrying to the spot. Followed 
by these, Brace Barlow started toward the derrick 
to see what could be done to check the furious 
torrent and direct it into the empty tanks. 

Colonel Dale was about to join them ; but, stopped 


SAVED BY THE SIGN OF THE TRAMP. 269 

by a sudden thought, he turned to Arthur and asked 
him if he could ride to the telegraph office five miles 
away and send an important despatch. 

“ Of course I can, sir,” answered the boy promptly, 
for after his experience of that morning he felt that 
he could do almost anything. 

So a message that had been previously thought 
out was hastily written. Arthur was charged to 
make all speed with it and, above all, not to mention 
a word of what had taken place at the Dale-Dustin 
well that morning to anybody. 

As Colonel Dale had found it necessary to ride 
about the country a great deal on business connected 
with the well, he had purchased the horse that 
Arthur now rode when they first came there. It 
was a fine animal, and the Colonel valued it highly, 
besides having grown very fond of it. 

Now as, unmindful of Arthur’s light weight, it 
galloped swiftly and easily along the lonely forest 
roads, it seemed to fully share its young rider’s 
happiness and impatience. Faster and faster they 
flew, the horse tossing his head and pulling at the 
bit, while the boy’s cheeks became flushed with 
excitement. His eyes sparkled, and as the fresh 


270 


BORING FOR OIL. 


morning air whistled passed him it seemed filled 
with happy fancies. It was a glorious ride, and he 
was enjoying it to the utmost when it was inter- 
rupted in a most disagreeable and unexpected 
manner. 

In the very loneliest part of the road, about half 
way to the village, two ragged, evil-looking men 
suddenly sprang out from the bushes by which they 
had been concealed. One of them succeeded in seiz- 
ing the bridle of Arthur’s horse, and though the 
startled animal reared and plunged so as to almost un- 
seat his young rider, the man managed to retain his 
hold. When the horse at last became quiet this 
man said : 

“ The walking is good enough for young legs like 
yours, sonny, so I reckon you ’d better light down 
and lend us this hoss for a bit. My pard here is 
lame, so that he can’t keep up with the procession 
very well, and we ’re in a hurry to get along.” 

“ But I am in a hurry too,” answered Arthur, try- 
ing to speak bravely and to control the fear that 
had driven every bit of color from his cheeks. 
“And I am going to the village on very important 
business.” 


SATED BY THE SIGH OF THE TRAMP. 27 1 

“ It must be very important,” said the tramp with 
a disagreeable laugh. 

u Yes,” spoke up the other, “ I reckon it ’s as im- 
portant as buying a stick of candy ; but that ’s 
nothing to the importance of our business. We ’re 
walking delegates of the society of independent 
tramps, we are, and our business can’t wait. So 
tumble down out of that saddle, young feller, with- 
out wasting any more of our walyable time. If yer 
don’t I ’ll pull yer down ; for we ’ve got to have this 
ere hoss.” 

The word “ tramp ” was as an inspiration to 
Arthur, and he answered boldly : “ If you steal my 
horse I shall tell my friend, Sandy Grimes, the very 
next time I see him, and he will make you send it 
back, besides making you very sorry that you dared 
do such a thing.” 

“ What do you know about Sandy Grimes ? ” 
asked the man who had the bridle, while they both 
looked so uneasily at each other that it was evident 
the name was one they knew and feared. 

“ He is a friend of mine,” replied Arthur, “ and he 
told me I was to mention his name if any tramps like 
you ever tried to bother me.” 


272 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ How are you going to prove you are a friend of 
Sandy’s ? ” asked one of the men. “ You don’t look 
over much like one of his kind.” 

“ I ’ll prove it this way,” answered the quick- 
witted boy. As he spoke, he drew a bit of pencil, 
and the despatch he was to deliver, from his pocket. 
On the back of the latter he made the symbol M, that 
the big tramp, with whose boy he had fought months 
before, had shown him. 

The two tramps look at it in amazement. “ Yes, 
that ’s Sandy’s mark,” said one of them at length ; 
“ there ’s no going back on that. But I don’t see 
how he ever come to give it to the likes of you. 
However, seeing that you ’ve got it, and claims Sandy 
for a friend, I suppose we ’ve got to let you and the 
hoss go. You ’ll have to give us every cent of 
money that ’s about your clothes, though, for my 
pard ’ll have to pay his railroad fare, if he can ’t 
have a hoss to ride.” 

Arthur had a dollar that his grandfather had 
given him, to pay for sending the telegram, and this 
he willingly gave up. Then, after the men had 
made him turn all his pockets inside out to show 
that he had no more money, they let go of his horses’ 



< l 


“ YES, THAT ’S SANDY’S MARK,” SAID ONE OF THEM 
GOING BACK ON THAT.” {Page 2*]2.) 


THERE S NO 





































































SAVED BY THE SIGN OF THE TRAMP. 273 

bridle, and in another moment he had dashed out of 
their reach and sight. 

It was an ugly adventure, and one that might have 
ended seriously for him, if the boy had lost his head, 
or allowed his fright to get the better of him. But, 
as has been said before, Arthur was not one of the 
boys who lose their heads in times of danger, and 
once more his coolness and courage had saved him. 


CHAPTER XXX TV. 


AN OIL SCOUT OUTWITTED. 


RTHUR reached the telegraph office without 



^ further mishap ; but, to his dismay, the 
operator refused to send his message unless it was 
prepaid, — and he had no money. In spite of Arthur’s 
pleadings that he would do so, and of his offer to go 
home, get the money, and bring it immediately back 
with him, the operator steadily refused to send the 
despatch, saying that it was against the rules to 
accept a collect message from a stranger. 

A young man, who was waiting in the office for a 
train, and who recognized Arthur as a grandson of 
the owner of the Dale-Dustin well, listened with 
interest to this discussion. At length he stepped up 
to the boy, saying : “ I know who you are, and I ’ll 
pay for that despatch, rather than have you put to 
any inconvenience. You can send the money to me 


274 


AN OIL SCOUT OUTWITTED. 275 

at any time by postal note, you know. Let me see 
bow many words there are ? ” 

With this the stranger glanced over Arthur’s tele- 
gram, as though to count the number of words, at 
the same time drawing a handful of change from his 
pocket. 

“You must write it out on a regular blank,” said 
the operator; and this the stranger kindly did 
for Arthur, crumpling up the original when he had 
finished, and holding it carelessly in his hand, as 
though there were no further use for it. 

Just then the train came along, and the obliging 
young man hurried away, without giving Arthur 
his address, or even having told his name. 

He was the oil scout, who had hidden beside the 
Dale-Dustin derrick all night, and thereby learned 
that the well was a dry hole. When he was com- 
fortably seated in the car, he drew forth the crumpled 
original of the telegram, and again read it. It was : 

“To R. Sims, 

“ Petroleum Exchange, 

“ Oil City, Pennsylvania : 

“ Have not struck the oil yet in any quantities. The well 
now is proving everything bad ; but fear a regular duster. 

“ Arthur Dale.” 


276 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ Well, if that is n’t one of the clumsiest despatches 
I ever read,” soliloquized the oil scout. “ He seems 
to have tried to work in all the words he could. 
How absurd to send news like that, twenty-four 
hours after all the world knew it. I should say 
that the old Colonel was a little off his base. Per- 
haps his disappointment has affected his mind. I 
must drop in on Sims and congratulate him on 
getting such early information. I ’ll make him repay 
me the money I spent on that telegram, too.” 

Then the scout dismissed the subject from his 
mind, and turned to the morning paper in which, 
among other items of oil news, he read of the col- 
lapse of the Dale-Dustin mystery, and found himself 
spoken of in highly complimentary terms as having 
been the first to discover its true condition. 

“ That ’s the ticket,” he said to himself, “ and it 
certainly ought to induce a raise of salary. I shall 
take care that my bosses see that notice, and if they 
don’t come down with something handsome, it won’t 
be my fault or because their duty is not made clear 
to them.” 

About three o’clock that afternoon, after having 
stopped at several other places, the scout leached 


AN OIL SCOUT OUTWITTED. 2JJ 

Oil City, and sauntered into the office of R. Sims, 
broker. 

“ How are you, Sims ? ” lie inquired carelessly, 
throwing himself into an arm-chair. “ What ’s the 
latest from Dale-Dustin ? ” 

“ Everything is lovely there,” answered the broker, 
who was looking particularly happy and well satis- 
fied at that moment. 

“ How ’s that ? ” 

“Why, she ’s flowing right along, and I got a 
despatch early this morning that gave me a good 
three hours’ start on the market. It ’s been a mighty 
lucky day for Colonel Dale, and not a bad one for 
yours truly, I can tell you. I should n’t be surprised 
if we ’d netted a cool hundred thousand. By the 
way, your company got badly left ! How did that 
happen? I thought you were on the spot. The 
other boys said you were to stay there until to-day.” 

During these remarks the face of the scout grew 
white and red by turns. Now he sprang from his 
chair in a state of the greatest agitation, crying: 
“ What do you mean, man ? The Dale-Dustin is a 
dry hole ! What sort of a telegram did you receive 
this morning ? ” 


2?8 


BORING FOR OIL. 


“ Dry hole ! well, I should smile ! ” exclaimed the 
broker. “ There is the first despatch that I got this 
morning, and I have had several since confirming it.” 

With this he handed to the scout a telegraph 
form on which was written : 

“ To R. Sims, Petroleum Exchange, 

“ Oil City, Pennsylvania : 

“ Have struck 4k-g oil in -awy quantities. -The well 
now is -p-r-oving everything ba4 but -f ear , a r egular duster. 

“Arthur Dale.” 

“You see,” explained Mr. Sims, “we were afraid 
some of you scouts might bribe the operator, or get 
hold of our despatches in some way. So we arranged 
to have all messages referring to the well read just 
the opposite of what was really meant, until every 
other word was crossed out. Then you see it comes 
out all right.” 

“ Oh ! it comes out all right, does it ? ” groaned 
the scout as he hastily left the office. “ Well, it may 
be for you, but I am afraid it is all wrong for me.” 

When Arthur returned to the farm after sending 
his despatch, and with a keen appetite for the break- 
fast Miss Hatty had saved for him, he found that 
the great stream of oil had been just got under 


AN OIL SCOUT OUTWITTED . 279 

control, and was rapidly filling the tanks prepared 
to receive it. He also found a large gang of men at 
work laying, with all possible speed, a line of pipe 
from the Dale-Dustin tanks to a pumping station of 
the great seaboard pipe line that fortunately was 
located less than a mile away. 

The shutting in of that marvellous well was a 
task that taxed the best energies of Brace Barlow 
and those who labored with him to their utmost for 
several hours. When it was finally completed it 
was a feat to be proud of. Colonel Dale, appreciat- 
ing the magnitude of the task, offered $400 reward 
to any one who should succeed in completing it. 
Stimulated by this, Brace and three other men im- 
mediately undertook it. 

It was a fearful thing to venture into those floods 
of falling oil and clouds of suffocating gas ; but, in 
the oil region, men become accustomed to such per- 
ils. Stripping to the waist, these four boldly entered 
the derrick, from the sides of which the boarding 
had previously been torn away. 

. There they battled with the rushing torrent, 
which every now and then flung them and their 
appliances to one side as though they were jack- 


280 


BORING FOR OIL . 


straws. Occasionally one, or all of them, would 
dash out for a few breaths of fresh air, and to rid 
their lungs of the deadly gases that hung low over 
the derrick. Then they would return to the light, 
and toil with the energy and strength of giants. 

At length, under a pressure of nearly three thou- 
sand pounds, the oil-saver was slowly forced down 
upon the fierce stream until its cap finally met the 
casing head. A moment later the set screws were 
turned, and the torrent of oil was discharging 
through four two-inch pipes into the waiting tanks. 
Its force was as great as though it were impelled by 
the pump of a steam fire-engine, and the pipes through 
which it discharged throbbed and vibrated under 
the terrible pulsations of the flow. 

As the men who had accomplished this task came 
from the derrick, reeking with the oil, they flung 
themselves to the ground, so thoroughly exhausted 
with their long struggle that, for nearly an hour, 
they could not be persuaded to move. 

Now the pipe must be hurried to its completion 
before the tanks overflowed. More men and more 
teams must be procured. The well could not be 
closed, or the fierce pressure of the imprisoned oil 


AN OIL SCOUT OUTWITTED. 


281 


and gas would blow out its casing, and the waste 
would be enormous. The tanks were filling at the 
rate of five hundred barrels an hour in spite of all 
restrictions that could with safety be placed upon 
the flow, so that in four hours’ time they would be 
full and running over. So messengers were sent in 
all directions for more men and teams, until the 
whole country side was engaged on the work. 

Shortly after noon it was finished, and oil from 
the wonderful Dale-Dustin well was finding its way 
into the tanks of the great pipe line that would con- 
vey it to the distant seaboard refineries. 

For months this magnificent well poured out 
thousands of barrels of oil daily, but after a while 
it settled down to a steady stream of about five hun- 
dred barrels in each twenty-four hours, which yield, 
with very slight diminution, was continued for sev- 
eral years. 

When the wearied, but happy occupants of the 
little farm-house, retired that night their prospects 
for the future were as bright and as full of promise 
as, but a few hours before, they had been sad and 
gloomy. The well had already more than paid for 
itself, and it was rapidly yielding them a fortune at 


282 


BORING FOR OIL. 


the rate of $1,500 for each hour of the day and 
night. Their days of poverty had come to an end, 
and wealth was literally flowing in upon them. 

It was impossible for Arthur to realize the full 
meaning of what was happening for his benefit ; but 
his grandfather and cousin did, and their rejoicings 
were more for his sake than for their own. Even 
they, however, could have no conception of the 
effect that the opening of the Dale-Dustin Well was 
to have upon that whole region, nor of the magical 
changes that were to take place on that lonely farm 
within a few days. 


CHAPTER XXXV 


DEVELOPING AN OIL REGION. 

B RACE BARLOW’S great shot not only opened 
the Dale-Dustin well, but it announced to 
the world the discovery of a new oil field that 
promised to be one of the most productive and 
valuable in the whole Pennsylvania region. As its 
echoes rolled far and wide over the country, they 
startled men in all walks of life, bidding them leave 
their homes and hasten to where the newly -found 
reservoirs of petroleum only awaited the magic 
touch of the drill to pour forth their floods of 
wealth. Thousands of people listened to the call of 
the echoes, and hundreds gladly responded to them. 
From all directions they flocked to the Dustin farm. 
They brought with them wealth seeking opportuni- 
ties for investment, and they came with empty 
hands. Experienced oil producers came, and men 

283 


284 BORING FOR OIL. 

who had never seen a well or a derrick. Business 
men, old and young men, came ; clerks, store-keep- 
ers, hotel men, teamsters, carpenters, well-drillers, 
and torpedo men, lawyers, doctors, and reporters, 
men of every age and calling began to pour in to 
the new oil field the very day after Arthur Dale 
Dustin dropped the go-devil down its first well. 

They came by rail, in wagons, and on foot. They 
brought their families, and they came without them. 
Within two weeks the new oil town of Dustindale 
had sprung into a full-fledged existence. It con- 
tained nearly a thousand inhabitants, and its popu- 
lation was increasing by hundreds every day. It 
was a town of tents, huts, shanties, and the lightest 
of frame buildings hastily run up at a cost which, 
in more eligible localities, would have paid for 
marble structures of the same size. A branch rail- 
road, to connect with the main line, five miles away, 
was already in process of construction. The lonely 
Dustin farm was, as though by the touch of a magic 
wand, transformed into one of the most bustlius: 
centres of the busy world. 

It was not only a busy place, but a wealthy one ; 
for money poured into it, and was spent as freely as 


DEVELOPING AN OIL REGION. 285 

it came. Laborers made ten dollars a day, and 
teamsters twenty. Thousands of dollars sent to be 
invested in wells and oil lauds changed hands daily. 
Everybody made money easily and quickly, and the 
majority of those who did so, seemed possessed of a 
craze for spending it, giving it away, throwing it 
away, or doing anything else to get rid of it. 

Scores of derricks were to be seen, built or build- 
ing, in every direction ; while by night, as well as 
by day, was heard the steady clank of walking- 
beams, and the dull thud of drills. 

New wells were going down on all sides ; but, for 
more than a month, only one was in operation. It 
was the magnificent Dale-Dustin, the magnet that 
drew this feverish mass of humanity from all places 
to itself, the living, throbbing promise that kept 
them there. They gazed at it with a never failing 
delight and with an ever increasing wonder, as it 
steadily and without a pause poured forth its thou- 
sands of barrels of oil. They began to believe that 
it was inexhaustible, and that it might flow thus to 
the end of time. To its owners it was bringing 
in a royal income. At the same time they had 
other sources of wealth, more valuable even than 


286 


BORING FOR OIL. 


it, though but for it these could have had no 
f existence. 

Of all this wonderful development and marvellous 
activity, Colonel Arthur Dale, of Virginia, was King, 
and his grandson was the Crown Prince. 

With the first rush of adventurers to the farm and 
the first rude growth of Dustindale, little Cynthia 
was sent to her own home and Miss Hatty returned 
to Dalecourt. She wanted to take Arthur with 
her, but he begged so hard to be allowed to stay 
where he was a while longer that his grand- 
father consented to let him. So they two lived 
quietly on in the pleasant old farmhouse, that was 
destined ere long to stand in the centre of a flourish- 
ing town, the marvellous growth of which the boy 
watched with wondering eyes. 

He took a lively interest in every new well being 
drilled, and went from one to another with wise bits 
of advice, gleaned from his own experience both as a 
“chump” and a “sharp.” The rig-builders, perched 
on lofty derricks, loved to look down and see him 
watching them. Sturdy well drillers smiled as they 
saw his sober young face, intently studying the motion 
of the great walking-beams or the turning of the 


DEVELOPING AN OIL REGION. 2 87 

temper screws, and they listened with amused gravity 
to his decidedly expressed opinions of what should 
be done or left undone. Profanity ceased as he 
drew near, and rough words and manners were laid 
aside until he had passed. He was very proud of 
being the oldest settler in the town ; for, as he said : 
“ You know I lived here long before even you came, 
grandpapa.” 

To his grandfather the boy was a never-failing 
source of pride and joy. He was so gentle and 
lovable, at the same time so brave and practical 
and so unspoiled by all the flattery and attention 
showered upon him, that he was a constant marvel 
and example to the impulsive old Colonel. To be 
sure, the latter had never known much about boys ; 
but he certainly had not imagined that, as a class, 
they were like this one. 

For the sake of his grandson, Colonel Dale made 
the most of the golden opportunities now presented 
to him. At the very beginning of his operations as 
an oil producer, he had secured oil leases of large 
tracts of land lying on both sides of the Dustin 
farm. For these he was to give one quarter of all 
the oil produced from them, and guaranteed to sink 


288 


BORING FOR OIL . 


wells upon them within a certain time. Now he 
was able to dispose of these leases, in one-acre lots, 
for a thousand dollars apiece in money, and an agree- 
ment that gave him one half the oil. 

Within ninety days after the Dale-Dustin well 
began to flow, half of the Dustin farm had been 
surveyed into town lots, and sold for half a million 
of dollars ; while the other half was leased in one- 
acre lots as oil territory, in such a manner as to 
make it worth as much more. In making these 
sales, Colonel Dale retained, in Arthur’s name, the 
farmhouse with the land immediately surrounding it, 
and the Dale-Dustin well. 

From all these statements and figures, it will be 
seen that Arthur’s plan for relieving his grand- 
father’s financial difficulties had succeeded beyond 
his wildest dreams. 

As the summer drew near its close, Colonel Dale, 
impatient to escape from business cares and the in- 
tense excitement in which they were living, began to 
place his affairs in such a shape that he might return 
to Dalecourt. Arthur, too, was becoming tired of 
the oil region, and longed for a change of scene. 
He was therefore made very happy by being told 


DEVELOPING AN OIL REGION . 289 

that they would start for Dalecourt early in Octo- 
ber, on the very day of the month that he and Uncle 
Phin had started on their memorable journey a year 
before. This was also the day set for the formal 
opening of the branch railroad to Dustindale. 

Brace Barlow, who had all this time been in charge 
of the well that he had opened, was now appointed 
superintendent of the entire Dale-Dustin interests in 
that part of the country, at a handsome salary. He 
was to occupy the farm house, and his mother was to 

come and live with him. 

19 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 

N the evening before they were to go away, 



V--/ Colonel Dale, in his grandson’s name, invited 
all the citizens of Dustindale to assemble on the lawn 
in front of the farmhouse. 

It was a dark night, but the lawn was brilliantly 
illuminated by hundreds of natural gas torches, that 
produced a novel and beautiful effect. When the 
guests arrived — and everybody accepted the invita- 
tion — they found that they were to be entertained 
with fireworks, by the music of the Dustindale Cornet 
band, by an address from Colonel Dale, and with a 
supper. 

The address was a short one, but it was received 
with tremendous applause, for it was a presentation, 
on behalf of Arthur Dale Dustin, to Dustindale, of 
the plans for a town-hall, a school-house, and a li- 


290 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 


29I 


brary, accompanied by the money to build and 
equip them. 

Then the people crowded about Arthur, and 
wanted to shake hands with him, and thank him, 
and tell him how sorry they were that he was going 
away, and he tried to answer every one who spoke 
to him. He could not remember afterwards what he 
said to anybody, it was all so confusing ; but it must 
have been just what they wanted him to say, for 
everybody seemed pleased, and somebody said he 
was such a fine little fellow that he should have 
been a Prince. Then somebody else took this up, 
and said he was a Prince, a young oil Prince; which 
so pleased the fancy of the people that they at once 
accepted the title, and cheered again and again for 
their oil Prince. 

The next morning, when Arthur walked with his 
grandfather down to the station of the new railroad, 
where they were to take the train, he found a crowd 
of people gathered about and admiring one of the 
most beautiful private cars that ever was seen. 
It was attached to the rear end of the passenger 
train, which was to be the first ever run over that 
road, and was so new and fresh-looking that it 


292 


BORING FOR OIL. 


could evidently never have been used. All of its 
outside metalwork was of gleaming brass, and in 
a central panel, encircled by a wreath of roses and 
butterflies, was inscribed, in golden letters, the name 
“ Cynthia.” 

“ Just look at that car, grandpapa ! ” cried Arthur 
excitedly. “ Is n’t it a beauty ? and how queer that 
its name should be Cynthia.” 

“It is strange,” answered Colonel Dale with a 
smile. “ Suppose we step aboard and see what the 
inside looks like.” 

They entered by the rear door and found them- 
selves in a beautiful saloon that was furnished with 
a lounge, table, and easy chairs, and had large plate- 
glass windows at the end and on both sides. Be- 
yond this was an exquisitely appointed bath-room, 
and opening from it was a large stateroom, furnished 
with a low French bedstead, a dressing-table, writing 
desk, and easy chair. A smaller stateroom opened be- 
yond this one. Still further on they saw a dining- 
room, at the sides of which were four berths like 
those in sleeping-cars. Then came a pantry, linen 
closet, ice chest, and various other conveniences. 
Last of all was the tiny kitchen, looking like a 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 


293 


yacht’s galley, and hung all around with the bright- 
est of cooking utensils. 

Arthur was charmed with all that he saw and 
kept wondering who was to ride in this wonderful 
palace on wheels. As he peeped into the kitchen 
he hesitated for a moment and then sprang for- 
ward with a cry of joy. 

There, with a white cap on his head and a snowy 
apron tied about his waist, was his own dear old Uncle 
Phin, his face beaming with delighted anticipation. 

“ Yes, Honey ! ” he cried, after the tumult of 
Arthur’s greeting had somewhat subsided. “ I jes 
had ter come. Ole Unc Phin couldn’ trust you fer 
ter trabbel wifout him no longer. So I kum to take 
de charge ob de cookin ob yo kyar.” 

“ My car ! ” cried Arthur in amazement. “ What 
does he mean by my car, grandpapa ? ” 

“ He means,” replied Colonel Dale, “ that this car, 
the i Cynthia,’ and all that it contains is my present 
to the dearest and best of grandsons, as a slight 
acknowledgment of what he has done and is doing 
for me.” 

“ Do you mean that this is my very own car, to 
travel in, and live in, and do as I please with, grand- 


294 BORING FOR OIL. 

papa ? ” asked the boy, in a slightly awed tone, as 
the full import of what he had just heard began to 
dawn upon him. 

“ Precisely that,” was the answer. “ And in it, 
if you choose, we will travel together over all the 
important railways of the country, while you are 
taking a course of object lessons in the study of how 
to become a railroad man. How do you like that 
for a plan ? ” 

“ Why, I never dreamed of one half so splendid ! ” 
cried the happy boy. “ It is more like a real fairy 
tale than anything I ever heard of.” 

Just then a young man, in a handsome blue uni- 
form with shining brass buttons, stepped into the 
car, and touching his cap to Colonel Dale announced 
that it was time for the train to start. 

Arthur stared at him for a moment and then ex- 
claimed : “ Brakeman Joe ! Is it Brakeman Joe ? ” 

“ Conductor Joe, if you please, sir,” said the young 
man, looking immensely proud and pleased. “ Con- 
ductor of this car, and at your orders to take her 
wherever you may choose to have her go.” 

Then, amid the firing of guns, the cheering of the 
assembled people, and a great chorus of “ good-bye ” 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 295 

and “ come back again soon,” the train moved slowly 
off, and Arthur had begun his second journey toward 
Dalecourt. But under what different circumstances 
from the other was this journey undertaken. 

As Arthur sat for a while, perfectly still and 
thinking it all over, his heart was too full of happi- 
ness and gratitude for expression in words. At 
length he said : 

“ Grandpapa, I do believe that I am the very hap- 
piest boy in the world, and I do wish that all other 
boys could be as happy as I am.” 

“ I am afraid that all boys do not deserve to be,” 
replied his grandfather, smiling ; “ though, of course, 
a great many of them do. At any rate, you now 
have it in your powder to add very greatly to the 
happiness of all the deserving and unhappy boys 
whom you may meet. I do not know of any better 
use to which you can put the great wealth that has 
been so wonderfully given you ; and I am willing 
you should expend just as much money as you see 
fit in that way. The very best use we can put 
money to, is to make others happy with it.” 

“ I think so, too,” exclaimed the boy, with flushed 
cheeks and sparkling eyes ; “ and I would rather 


296 


BORING FOR OIL. 


spend all the money you can spare in making people 
happy, than to do anything else in the world with 
it. Can ’t we begin with the people who were good 
and kind to me, when I was trying to get to you, 
last year ? ” 

“ Of course, we can,” answered Colonel Dale. 
“ I had thought of them, and have planned this 
journey so as to follow as nearly as possible the 
same route that you and Uncle Phin took, and find 
all the people we can who were kind to you.” 

They began to carry out this delightful plan of 
making people happy that very day, by having the 
“ Cynthia ” side-tracked at the station nearest to 
where the Chapman’s lived, and driving to their 
house. 

Nothing could exceed the astonishment of this 
kind-hearted family at again seeing Arthur, and 
hearing of all the marvellous things that had hap- 
pened to him since they last met. Mr. Chapman 
hitched up his team, and with his wife, and Bert, 
and Sue, drove over to the railway station, to take 
dinner with Arthur and his grandfather in the 
beautiful car. 

There they renewed their acquaintance with 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 297 

Uncle Phin, and made him feel very proud, by 
praising his cooking, and eating heartily of all the 
good things that he had provided. 

After dinner, Arthur said he wanted to tell them 
a fairy story, instead of reading one to them, as he 
had done before. It was all about a pretty cottage, 
near a large city, that had been bought in their 
name, and was waiting for them. There was also 
employment waiting for Mr. Chapman in that city, 
and schools to which Mrs. Chapman could send the 
children. In the cottage waited the biggest doll 
that was ever seen for little Sue, while in the cot- 
tage stable waited a pony for Bert. The best part 
of this fairy story was, that it was every word true. 

The next stop of the “ Cynthia ” was in Pitts- 
burgh, where Colonel Dale, and Arthur, and Uncle 
Phin, all went to see good Aunt Charity, and left 
the dear old soul staring in tearful amazement at a 
check for a larger amount of money than she had 
ever seen in all her life. It was given her for the 
education of the twins, who were to be brought up 
to “ de whitewash an de kalsomine bizness.” 

Then they went to Harrisburg, where Conductor 
Tobin’s little house, not far from the railroad, was 


298 


BORING FOR OIL. 


bought and presented to him, to be his very own 
for always, and where Kitty Tobin was given the 
handsomest copy of u Hans Christian Andersen’s 
Fairy Tales ” that could be procured. 

As they were walking back to the car from Con- 
ductor Tobin’s house, a boy with a bundle of papers 
under his arm, stared intently at Arthur for a 
moment, and then sprang directly in front of him 
exclaiming : 

“ Don’t yer know me? I ’m de kid what you 
licked one time.” 

“ Why, of course I know you ! ” cried Arthur, 
holding out his hand, “ and I am very glad to see 
you. How do you do, Kid ? ” 

Then the Kid said his name was Billy Crimes, 
and that ever since he heard Arthur read that story 
he had been trying to be something better than an 
ugly duck. He had run away from his father in 
Pittsburgh, soon after meeting Arthur, because the 
big tramp wanted to make him steal for a living, 
and had gradually worked his way to Harrisburg, 
where he was trying to be an honest newsboy. 

The result of this fortunate second meeting with 
Arthur was that, in less than a month from that 


ARTHUR REMEMBERS HIS FRIENDS. 


2 99 


time, Master William Grimes was entered as a pupil 
in one of the best military schools of the country. 
There he is working so hard and doing so well that, 
before long nobody will remember that he ever was 
an “ugly duckling.” 

In Washington Colonel Dale went to call on an 
old friend, and took Arthur with him. To the boy’s 
surprise and delight, this friend proved to be the 
very gentleman to whom he had sold his dog Rusty. 
The dog was still there, and manifested such ex- 
travagant joy at again seeing his former master that 
the gentleman laughingly said it would be cruel to 
part such loving friends any longer. So the dear 
dog, now more handsome and knowing than ever, 
was again presented to the boy who had once fought 
to save him from a beating, and Arthur said this 
was the happiest thing of the whole journey. 

The next day they were once more at Dalecourt, 
and the very first person Arthur saw, standing in 
the doorway as he and Rusty sprang from the car- 
riage, was Cynthia. Colonel Dale had invited her 
to come to Dalecourt to be educated and to live as 
his daughter, and her father had consented that she 
should. 


300 


BORING FOR OIL. 


Miss Hatty had been engaged all summer in 
restoring Dalecourt to even more than its former 
glory, so that now it was one of the most beautiful 
places in Virginia. 

Here we must leave the boy whose wanderings 
and fortunes we have followed for a year. Although 
he is no longer poor, he studies and works just as 
hard as though he were, and is all the happier for 
so doing. He is still determined to be a railroad 
man when he grows up, and he still finds his chief 
pleasure in turning other people’s sorrow into hap- 
piness. 

On that first evening at Dalecourt Miss Hatty 
went up to his room to take away the light after he 
had gone to bed. He was just dropping to sleep 
as she bent over him, and kissing his forehead said 
softly : “ Good-night and pleasant dreams to you, 
my dear little Prince Dusty ! ” 


THE END. 


























































































